13 Lessons Learned in 2013

I have to say, since first doing this two years ago, I actually look forward to this end of the year post. I think about it for about a month; various things that I have learned, relearned or continued to learn over the last year. I usually do this while I'm driving, so, of course, I ultimately forget most of them. Last week, I got smart and wrote them into the memo app on my phone. I'm pretty sure this is an accurate assessment of the last 12 months in terms of lessons learned. Enjoy or not...it's up to you.

13. Saying no is hard, yet necessary.

While my family may whole heartedly disagree, I have an incredibly hard time saying no to people. Part of it is the belief that I can, in fact, do it all. The other part is feeling like I have to do it all. But I can't. And I don't have to. I think you grow into the understanding that all of that "yessing" is ultimately saying no to yourself. And I am sick of saying no to myself. So, I'm working on this one.

12. There is a generation gap. And sometimes, I don't get it.

There is a point in your early 30's that you begin to see glimpses of a new world that lives in younger people that you know absolutely nothing about. And by the time you hit your early 40's, it becomes a full-on generation gap. And it's shocking. I've actually done quite a bit of studying and lecturing on this phenomenon because it explains so many of the psychological concepts that I teach. While many things that the younger folks do is part naiveté, part lack of frontal lobe development, a great deal of what they do is influenced by the world they grew up in. Today's people under 30 have never lived without the instant gratification of the internet. And it bleeds into everything they do and colors their entire world view. I start every semester reviewing my "technology free zone" policy in the classroom by telling my class, "I lived for 31 years without a cell phone. You can live for an hour and a half. I promise." And 15 weeks later, I'm still saying the same thing. Because, their world view says that they can't. It also tells them they are special because they were born. And that information should be offered, not earned. And it's annoying as shit. And I don't get it.

11. The universe gives you signs.

Call it a cosmic shift, a sign from God, or as my brother so eloquently referred to it as "going with the flow". You will have moments that the slightest event will tell you something about where to go next. This is how I ended up back in school, falling into working with kids with autism and in a variety of jobs in my life. Listen to those little signs. They will define your life.

10. I have finally recovered from the post traumatic stress called high school.

In 2013, I did something that I never believed I'd do. I went to my 25th high school reunion. I didn't believe I'd do it because, until 2013, I had no desire to. There are many reasons why I didn't want to revisit these awkward years but the biggest one was that it always felt like it was too soon. For 24 years, it felt like it was too early to face demons that I think haunt a lot of people. We spend our entire adolescence (and most of our 20's and 30's)trying to define who we are. Some of us try on personalities for the day and then take them off. Some of us hold on really tight to who we thought we were when we were 15. And those people are often pricks (Just sayin'). But here's the problem....at 17 or 18 years old, we all split up and go on and live completely different lives. Unfortunately, we don't get to make right all of the wrongs we did to people we barely knew. And those wrongs get written on the core of who we are trying to become. So, why in the hell would we want to go back there? Facebook changed and softened my opinions on a lot of people years later but for others, it really just confirmed what I already knew. I have made many new high school friends through Facebook. And got rid of some others. I did, in fact, thoroughly enjoyed my reunion, which was shocking in itself. And I also received a drunken apology from someone I barely knew in high school who regretted not trying to get to know me 25 years ago. It appears I'm not the only one with a touch of the "ptsd"....

9. Affordable Health Care may have its flaws, but something has to give.

This is my rare political statement. Then again, I don't consider the right to medical care a political issue. It's a human right. End of story.

8. I like to see people do well.

Distantly related to my ptsd reunion post but on a more global scale, I actually take great joy in seeing people do well in life. I love that people I grew up with have gone on to do really interesting, great things. And I am not referring to money. I am referring to finding something they love and running with it. It makes me happy.

7. Sometimes you have to close doors.

I'm not talking about the doors in your house or on your car. I'm referring to the doors that keep you from moving on in life. And I personally suck at this. I hate closing doors. I'm sure it's deep seeded in my childhood and has some Freudian explanation that I haven't thoroughly explored. I am getting better at it, though.

6. Everyone should go somewhere warm when it is cold out.

I CANNOT wait to leave this artic freeze for warmer weather. I really hate the cold. This is no secret. And I've decided that I'm not going to suffer through another, long, cold and lonely winter without jumping on a jet plane and sunning myself while wearing 50spf. Because I bust my ass. And I deserve it.

5. I am perfectly content to do nothing.

I recently heard someone say that most people stay busy because they are afraid of being with themselves. Meaning, can you tolerate the silence in your head long enough to hear what it has to say? And while I may spend a little too much time listening to what is going on in my head, I am of the opinion that most people can't even fathom the idea.

4. Watching your kid grow up can be a joy, a terror and sad all at the same time.

I have never had so many emotions simultaneously assault my soul as when I watch Max experience something for the first, last or 10,000 time. I am so incredibly proud of the person he is growing up to be and often wonder how it is even possible that he has made it this far in life relatively unscathed. A little part of me dies inside every time he gives me his forehead when I ask for a kiss or when I watch him edit himself in order to "fit in". He has taught me more in 11 years than I learned in the 31 before. I am forever grateful.

3. I am capable of having the puberty/sex talk.

This is huge. Because I did not think I would survive the talk. I painstakingly researched the best books while my child harassed me for days demanding this vital information. I truly believed I would sidetrack him with a simple book on body odor and body hair and that this possibly would buy me days. It bought me about 30 minutes. And when we hit the chapter titled "Let's talk about sex", I believed that oxygen was leaving the room. I literally could not speak. I turned to Max and said "Are you sure you are ready for this?" He appeared so unmoved by this monumental moment when he calmly said yes. I will say I prefaced the sex part by explaining that it was more than a physical act; it was a commitment. Then I just started reading and didn't stop until it was over. His only question when I was done was "How did you ever trust anyone again after Mark (my ex-husband)?" I had done my job.

2. Grief doesn't go away. It just changes.

Grief has defined much of my life, starting with the death of my father in 1982. It became overwhelming when I lost my brother 4 1/2 years ago and was complicated by the death of my mother almost 3 years ago. I live with it every day but it has become more integrated and has taken on a resiliency in my life that wasn't there 5 years ago. There is a lesson in every loss.

1. Third list....still liking my life.

For the 3 year in a row, I can say that I really do like my life. Of course, it's not perfect but I embrace my imperfections (kinda). Liking my life doesn't mean I am completely content or that I don't want better things for myself. It just means that I realize that I am lucky to have good family, good friends, good food and an occasional good wine (or vodka) in my life.

I wish you all a Happy 2014!

How Working in the Restaurant Business Changed My Life

The old saying goes, "We are a product of our history". Or maybe it doesn't. Maybe, I just made that up. But if it's not an old saying, it should be. Because it's true.

A big part of my history is having had the pleasure, honor and experience of working in the restaurant business. While I realize for many, the restaurant biz is a stop on a proverbial train called life, for others, this is a career choice. And for many years, I made that choice.

My life in the restaurant business was as formative as my early childhood. It was part of the path that has led me to where I am right now; propped up in my bed with the football game on and a laptop on my lap. As a 15 year old girl, I marched my ass into the Kennett Square Inn (actually, my mother drove me there but that's besides the point) and became part of a family. A family I still have today.

There is something so unique about the experience of working along side a cast of characters that would have never crossed your path had you not walked in that door. Because that's what a restaurant is...a cast of characters you'd find in a sitcom or a drama or a reality show. It is all of those things.

People who have not had this experience cannot appreciate the conditions you work under. The stress is immediate and at times, overwhelming. You will rise to the occasion or you will fall apart. I've done both.

You will be a giver, and receiver of insults unimaginable. And then you will have a drink together and forget what it was that you were fighting about. You may even dodge sharp instruments coming at you at a very high rate of speed. You may walk out. And then come back later to find that someone stepped in because the rest of the world doesn't care that you are having a nervous breakdown. Someone needs to get the Chateaubriand to Table 12.

While the majority believes that Happy Hour starts at 5pm, you know that, in fact, it actually starts at 11pm. And while the general population braves the crowds on Fridays and Saturdays, you know that Sundays are by far, the best night of the week to be out. And even if you retire from the business, you still feel lost on a Friday or Saturday night because most of your friends are working.

And for those of you who waited tables or tended bar to make some extra money or put yourself through school, you may find that the ones who choose to stay will probably work harder than you ever will again. They will hone their craft and become an expert in their field. Just like you.

While I left the Inn several times over the years, I always ended up back at home. With my friends. I made new friends every time and those friendships have defined my adult life. These were the friendships that stood the test of time. Even after we had gone our separate ways. Some of us left the business, some of us just moved on to different places. But these characters were the best characters to have.

11 Things I Want My 11 Year Old to Know

Anyone who really truly knows me, knows that I am a total sap at heart. I believe that life is really just a collection of memories; good, bad, ugly and in between that make up the core of who we are. At 42, I can look back at my 11 year old self and see a little girl about to lose her father. There is so much I had to learn the hard way. If Max can take just one of these 11 lessons and bypass a moment of angst, confusion or pain, then I've done my job.

1. Laugh until your stomach hurts: There are few things in life that you can't figure out a way to laugh about. No matter how awful it may seem at the time, dig deep and laugh. It's ok. Who cares what everyone else thinks? Just figure out a way to laugh.

2. Believe what you see; not necessarily what you hear: People really do show you who they are. Watch them. Believe them the first time. Don't waste your time expecting them to change. Let them waste their own time figure out how to change.

3. Believe in yourself: Know that fundamentally, you are capable of anything. Because you are. Get out of your own way.

4. Understand that your parents really do know more than you do: Because they do. Teenagers know nothing. They only think they do.

5. Open your heart: Go into the world with your arms and eyes wide open. Believe that you are loveable. Because you are.

6. Have opinions: Whether it's your favorite food or who you want to be friends with, know how you feel about things. Develop a sense of self early in life. Take a stand. Become who you were meant to be, even if you are only 11 years old.

7. Don't believe what other kids say about you (unless it's nice): Kids are often mean for no other reason than they can be. Don't be that kid. And don't believe that kid either.

8. Feel things: Part of really living is really feeling. So be happy. Be sad. Be angry. Be all of those things. And let go of the things that don't serve you well.

9. Ask questions: Don't pretend you have it all figured out when you know you don't. Ask. We will tell you.

10. Read a book: Don't wait for people to bring the information to you. Open a book and figure it out for yourself.

11. Like who you are: You are standing on the edge of becoming whoever it is you choose to be. Choose to be a person you will want to get a drink with when you are 30. Those are my favorite kind of people.

Happy 11th Birthday Max at OneTrueMedia.com

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Britt, Her Decision to Opt Out and Why I Couldn't and Wouldn't (But Sometimes Wish I Could)

Social media is an amazing thing. It has allowed me to reconnect with people from my past and get to know them in a way I hadn't in the first place. My friend, Britt is one of those FB reconnects, who through status posts and her most excellent blog http://eastmeetsbreast.wordpress.com/ I have come to know in a way that wouldn't have been possible 25 years ago. I have had the privilege to watch Britt battle and beat breast cancer with a grace and dignity I could only hope for, had I been dealt the same hand. She is truly inspirational and I think of often when I need some perspective on my life. So, yay to Britt!!!

Today, Britt posted a blog regarding her decision to opt out of the work force 10 years ago, leaving behind a career as a doctor in order to devote herself to a much more important job called motherhood. Opting out for women in the workforce has been with much controversy, taking into account all of that feminist hoopla about getting in there in the first place. Much has been written on it in terms of the effects on mothers, children, marriages and society at large. What is great about Britt's blog (notice how I continue to plug her blog??) is while she speaks to the larger issue, she does what everyone who has ever been a mother and had a career should do; she throws all of that research bullshit out the window and talks about her own personal experience (which is impressive in its own right given the fact that she is a scientist). Go ahead...check out her blog.

All of this opting out stuff truly came to my attention when the "opting back in" controversy started in recent years. Suddenly, many women who had opted out wanted back in while other "opt out-ers" looked down there noses at the women who were apparently jumping ship right back from where they came from.

So, how does this affect me? I never opted out, therefore, opting back in isn't even an option. But I have struggled daily with the decision of being a working mom (even though it's a necessity). I always believed I wanted to be a stay at home mother. Why wouldn't I? My mother had been one until long after we were grown and I relied heavily on that security blanket. I believe motherhood is a sacred gift. How could I not want to embrace it in every way, shape and form?

When Max was born, I was a stay at home mother. For exactly three weeks. And then this thirty-something called her boss and offered to come back two days a week. The overwhelming neediness of an infant consumed my psychic energy and I thought I may lose my mind. While the love was as instant as any mother will attest, for my sanity, and the long term sanity of my child, walking out the door those 2 days a week saved both of our lives.

I returned to graduate school when Max was 9 months old and shortly after he turned 5, I graduated with a Masters degree in Clinical Psychology. During those 4 years, Stephen and I parented "tag team style", with one of us with him every part of the day except for 2 half days of preschool a week for socialization. Stephen was incredibly supportive of my work part time, school part time schedule but we were literal ships passing in the afternoon as we handed Max off to one another. It did not help our relationship.

It was shortly before Max turned six that I returned to the work force on a full time basis. And it was shortly after that when Stephen and I split up. But that decision was the right one for all parties involved, including Max and we still maintain our own 21st century style nuclear family unit. We are truly blessed.

As for the decision to opt in or out, I believe this about myself. I never wanted to have it all. I never wanted to be Wonder Woman. I never wanted to be bringing home the bacon and frying it up in a pan. But I wanted to be a mother. I wanted to be a mother who my child could look up to, admire and know loves him first and foremost. And I also wanted to feel fulfilled in an intellectual way that pursuing my degree, my career and my teaching has allowed.

It is hard to do it all. But it fills up those places in my life. And pays the bills.

Remembering my brother 4 years later

Ugh...it's that time of year again where I get to decide how I'm going to honor my brother's memory in a way that does him justice and allows me to let it all hang out. What I've learned over the course of this blog is that sometimes my message is repetitive but then again, the flipside of that is that I get to see the themes that run through my life and how I've coped along the way.

It's an interesting exercise....honoring the dead. Because I always fear that I've somehow overdone it, exposed too much, done too little and alienated those closest to me in the process. But, I always come back to the fact that this helps me (and even some of you) so I plough on through and carry on my way.

Four years later, my brother's death has been permanently intertwined into every aspect of my life. It was a catalyst for an incredible amount of personal growth for me that was complicated by the loss of my mother, the deconstruction of my family and the dismantling of my childhood home. Some days, I don't know where to put it all. I am not a compartmentalizer. I am a woman with few boundaries of the heart and yet I have many walls. It's a bizarre feeling.

Given all that has transpired since June 30, 2009, it is hard for me to really put a finger on what it is I want to say at this point. I am angry and grateful at the same time. I am happier than I probably have ever been amidst an incredible amount of sadness. I am more of who I was ever knew I could be and still wonder "Is this really what it is all about?"

I guess all I've ever wanted people to know is who my brother really was. Because in many respects, he was a caricature to many of those who claimed to know him. You really don't know someone until those very quiet moments in your life that you only share with a select few. My brother and I didn't select each other but we had moments people will never know about. And no blog or story will ever capture them for what they really were. And yet, I continue to try.

I have told so many stories over the past few years. And they always seem to fall short. How do you try to capture someone at the core of who they really were, not who everyone thought they were? I have talked about Live Aid and the other concerts. I have talked about my college graduation, my wedding, my divorce and those last few days. I have told stories of being a little kid with a much older brother who literally handed me my love of music and words and lyrics and humor. A brother who infuriated me and who I felt compelled to protect. A brother I infuriated and who felt compelled to protect me. But they still fall short.

What I want people to know is this. It sucks to lose a sibling in a way only those of you who have been there can truly understand. The feelings it brings up are not the ones you will or have experienced when you lose a parent. They just aren't. Your sibling is a mirror in which you will see all of the good and all of the bad as long as you are willing to look. You will see yourself in that person and feel simultaneously proud and disgusted. But what you are looking at is the truth. It's the truth in them and the truth in you. And it is worth it. And you will learn to love that person in a way that you weren't able to when they were here on earth. And that's okay. Because we all want to count our blessings while we are here but rarely do. That's human. That's what makes us real.

I would rather have learned the hard way then to have never learned at all. I want my brother's life and death to be a gift, not a burden. It's been both. Because you learn. With every goodbye, you learn.

Why I Could Never Be a Singer in a Bar

So I'm watching The Voice, my guilty pleasure, and am really in awe. This is no American Idol, where judges take pleasure in tearing the aspiring star to shreds. These artists are picked solely on their vocal ability and taken under the wing of a coach to hone their skills. It's actually quite beautiful to watch if you are a sap like me.

But, like all of us, these people didn't start off at the top. They have busted their asses to get where they are today. They have probably had to do things they didn't want to do and been humbled along the way. But humility breeds true success regardless of vocation and is often underrated and tucked away in the depths of most of our memories. Few people really embrace the humble moments in their lives that have led them to where they are today.

There is one young girl on the show, Sarah Simms (I think that's her name) who literally takes my breath away with her voice. She left vocal school to take a chance on the show and I'm pretty sure she made the right choice. It's clear she loves what she does and will do what it takes to be successful, regardless of what that looks like. Now, I'm entirely sure what her whole back story is but many of these people have sang to nearly empty rooms of people who may be more interested in picking up the girl across the room than listening to someone doing what they love.

This is why I could never be a singer in a bar.

You see....I already feel like a singer in a bar, so to actually have to be one (forget the little detail that I can't sing) would be devastating. Teaching often feels like what I assume singing in a bar feels like. Maybe I'm just suffering from end of semester burnout but my aggravation is real. Dare I say it's a generational thing but I am of the school of thought that humility has gone by the wayside.

I love teaching. I really do. I look back at the people who have most influenced my life along the way and there are more teachers (or employer/mentors) on that list than anyone else. I think teaching gives me the opportunity to open people's minds to a different point of view. I insist on pushing the envelope and creating uncomfortable moments in order to force people to think. But the fact of the matter is....some people don't care.

There is absolutely nothing more disheartening than standing in front of people who are sitting in a room under the premise that they want to further their education and realizing that some are simply going through the motions because a) they have to please their parents, b) they don't know what else to do or c) they assume their presence in a room is enough and should be rewarded.  Basically, it's like being a singer in a bar.

When you are a singer in a bar, you have 3 general groups of people in the crowd (I know this because I used to bartend). The first group is actually interested in listening to you. They like your music and want to hear you. The second group stumbled in the place and you just happened to be there. They might end up liking you or they might spend the majority of the time texting their friends; people who aren't even there, so in essence, they aren't there either. The third group are completely ignoring you but in a way that borders on offensive. They talk louder than the music, complain about the noise you are making or make snide comments. And if I was a singer in a bar, that would piss me off.

Since sometimes teaching is like being a singer in a bar, I have moments that really piss me off. It's not that everyone has to love me. Because, I know everyone doesn't love me (see "Owning Your Shit" blog). Instead, it's about respect and humility. Because when a person sits in a classroom, they are being given an opportunity. And there are a handful of students I encounter that have never framed the experience in that way. They are being given an opportunity that some people will never get. And they piss it away. They believe it's a means to an end and I am the catalyst. And the catalyst should reward them regardless of effort. And that's the one that blows me away the most.

I have never been afraid to work. Regardless of what that work looked like. If it was a paper in college, it had to be the best paper. If it was bartending, I had to be the fastest and most efficient. And if I have to get up and speak in front of people, I have to make people interested. And some of them aren't. And that humbles me in a way I hate but am learning to embrace in this role.

My boss reminded me that I'm just helping natural selection along by thinning out the "can do's" from the "won't do's". And for the record I have many "can do's". I even have "can't do very well's but try anyway". But those "won't do's" piss me off. They make me feel like a singer in a bar.