Thank You Cards

Thank you cards. Yes, yes that is the hill I will die on. Here's why. We live in a world full of entitled folks, young and old alike. Usually someone who feels entitled to all things rarely gives as freely as he/she takes. There is a purity of heart in giving. I recall an old adage or cliche, but a true one that says 'it is in the giving that we receive'.  A world full of entitled people is dangerous and unacceptable to me for many reasons, but primarily because nothing is free. Nothing is owed or given to you simply because you exist. You should not get a trophy or award if you didn't win. I mean, blood, sweat, tears WIN.  Everyone does not always feel good about themselves or their deeds nor should they, and it's humbling. We all pick our battles based on our own beliefs, moral fiber, ideals, and energy level on any given day. So, I get it. I totally understand when we may not be as consistent as we desire to be regarding various life matters. However, thank you cards is one I will not compromise on.  It is imperative to me that my children understand that they are not entitled to gifts "just because".  If they cannot write and sign (my kindergartener) or color/scribble (my 3 year old) a thank you card for someone who has gone out of his/her way to generously give them a gift, then they need to return the gift. Here's how I see it, if you can't take the time to be grateful, then you are not worthy of the gift. Not to mention, if I don't teach them gratitude now, they may be deluded into thinking they should continue to get things in life despite being a jerk.  Trust me, I would rather not do thank you cards.  I spend a ridiculous amount of time sitting next to them, coaxing them, and explaining to them the value of gratitude for others' generosity of spirit.  I threaten to take away said gift until the thank you card is complete, and it's exhausting. But, I believe so deeply in the lesson behind a thank you card that it's non negotiable. So, yes, the thank you card is the hill I choose to die on.

Narcissism

As I sift through the many status updates on Facebook and Instagram, I realize we are all narcissists. The worst part is that I am no exception despite my denial.  Mass social media has created a generation of narcissists. Not only do we take pictures everyday, all day of places, people and things, but our selfies abound. How can we possibly be living in any given moment or be truly compassionate and concerned about others when we are so self centered? An authentic connection and true interest in others is only skin deep now a days. This is going to get exponentially worse, I fear.  On the time table of my life, I can't find the month or even the year when the paradigm shifted. That scares me. We adults are also caught up in the world of social media, and our kids are watching.  My own sons peek over my shoulder as I fight not to become more of a voyeur.  But, the need is there like a dark; secret addiction. There are some days I go without getting online, but then other days it's like an itch I just must scratch. The ego is breathing like a beast underneath it all. I disgust myself.  Why? Because I know that social media is full of mostly bullshit; moments captured that represent only a fleeting emotion or place in time.  When our incessant boasts and selfies reflect our fantasies, hopes and dreams more than our realities, we miss the mark.  Something essential to the human spirit is lacking. We are cheating ourselves.  In 2015, I want to be more mindful for myself and my family. I want to seek out the authentic, "bigger than me" stuff that will make for thought provoking conversation and life. It's out there. I know it. I bet it's even on Facebook.

Givers and Takers

Recently, I learned that as much as I want to believe otherwise, most people are either givers or takers. Very few can be considered both. Even when we try our best to be aware of our classification and get balanced, it's tough. Some people just are who they are, and mainly because someone trained them that way. It's the sad truth. I was a born giver. It was always easy to take advantage of me. Unfortunately, it happened so often that I became hardened, cynical. I quickly decided I would become a taker. Well, that just didn't fit and I felt like a despicable human being. So now, I try to give and take with some balance, humility, gratitude, and an open heart. Challenging as it may be, I work on it. I do my best to stay true to my core. Maybe that's why it never gets easier to swallow the pill of a recognized taker.

Over Talk

No, I am not a believer in over talking with one's children. I will not lean down and softly ask my sons how they feel about having to stop playing outside and come in for a bath. I don't care. It's bath time.  Maybe my opinion will change as they get older. But, right now, I don't much care about their arguments for whatever it is they want or don't want for that matter. I am a parent, not a friend. Sure, I love New Age thinking and am working on being a mindful thinker/parent. However, sometimes the law is just the law. No room for a five year old to negotiate. He is not the boss. I am! Often times though, he thinks he is in charge. He thinks I "need" to do things and explain things, etc. He's a little attorney in the making, and I don't think it's cute at all.  His toddler brother is already following in his footsteps. I think the world has taught my five and three years olds a sense of entitlement that they have not even come close to earning. It's beyond frustrating.  Nope. I cannot accept this. I don't ever recall my parents explaining much to me. Basically, I obeyed just because. Plain and simple. Yes, that pissed me off and by my teens, I rolled my eyes and almost kinked my neck for good as I expressed my new found attitude. Luckily for everyone involved, that was just a temporary, albeit destructive, stage.

Don't knee jerk a judgement. Hear me out. I absolutely want to know how my son's day was in kindergarten. I want him to feel safe and unconditionally loved. It's imperative I develop open communication with both of my little guys now so that it transfers into the future when the day's events carry much more weight than what Ben, Josh, or Sarah brought in for share-day. Right now at this moment though, he may not have minutes added to his playtime on the iPad. If he argues or gives me his emphatic "no!" as I reach for the iPad, I will be forced to snatch it mid game. Here's the truth, the hardest part about parenting is being consistent. Some days, survival means that he gets five more minutes on the iPad.  Damn, I gave in.  The good news is that he gets to live to see another day though, right?!

Own It

So, here's the thing about growing up; aging, one hopes she is actually attaining some wisdom. You hope that your collective experiences from joy to utter heartbreak have made you stronger without being bitter. You pray that you won't make the same mistakes, cling to the past, or feel "stuck" when it comes to personal growth and progress. For me, I struggle with a myriad of "issues", but I am proud to say, I am excellent at "owning it". It being all my shit. See, I am introspective, and probably altogether way too critical of myself.  But, this allows me to truly study myself. I do it too often, and should do it more like a periodic audit. However, I just can't resist the urge to reflect. I wouldn't say that I am self centered, but I am definitely someone who believes we are here to learn. That includes learning about oneself. The good, the bad, and the ugly. The dark and the light.

Want to know what's irritating beyond my scope of patience? People who don't own their shit. Seriously, how can some people live their lives being the victim and pointing out everyone else's stuff while never claiming their own? And, it's always clear as day that they are carrying baggage way too heavy for themselves. You would think they'd want to lighten their load even if that means being accountable for some of their own choices, deficiencies, and happily taking credit for their greatness. Right?

Here I am full circle, back to me. I canvass my triggers, my flaws, my weaknesses, and hopefully my strengths as well. And, after I beat myself up for my inadequacies, I take a deep breath and work harder at being kind to myself. That's more of a challenge than it seems. Here's the great news, I owned my shit for the day, took stock, and can start fresh the next morning with some new found knowledge, and a tiny bit of wisdom.

My Sons

You started as a dream,
Then to my womb you grew.
The next thing I knew, you moved,
womb and heart became one.
I live for you and all you'll become.
Intertwined from beginning to end.
Now, here you are in the flesh,
A little being of your own.
I watch you.
I watch you as you sleep, 
Yours is the soundest,
With even, deep breathing.
Your innocence cradled in a blankie,
Hand interlocked with lovey,
Dreaming dreams of Sesame Street, butterflies, and slides.
You are my most precious things.
I watch you.
I watch you as you play,
Discovering things I've long since known,
Yet, in a way all your own.
You see it through eyes, ears, and imagination untainted.
Goodness in your every fiber.
You are purity in its truest form.
For you, I act the fool.
Because of you, I stay humbled.
Singing songs, making silly faces, jumping high, and dancing low,
Blowing kisses and rolling hugs, far from cool.

The years roll by faster than I expect.
It's some kind of insane test!
Good days and bad, put on a scale,
this isn't your average math.
Surprisingly, the rewards and joy outweigh the rest.
 
Now, thinking of only your future and hoping life starts to move in slow-mo
You are the core of my life.
I try never to look back to before...
My love for you is the kind that makes wars 
So fierce and extreme.
A love like none I've ever known.
My heart and soul are swollen with emotion.
I'd die for you, and kill for you in less than a blink of the eye.
You are the reason I was born, my mind is blown.
You give purpose new meaning, 
So this life, my life is aglow.

The umbilical cord never really cut.
Impossible to articulate or define,
This thing called motherhood.
For you, I'd give everything else up.
Make sealed deals with the devil if need be.
Bleed dry with nothing but love in my eyes.
You and your brother pluck the strings of my heart 
--until I take my final breath.

A Quick Thought on Expectations

Expectations are not our enemies. There is not an inherent negative connotation with the word nor the weight it holds. But, it can and has led to much disappointment for many. Whether the expectations are unrealistic or one simply cannot rise to meet or exceed them, sometimes they are at fault. However, I truly believe that more times than not, expectations are positive. It is crucial for people to grow and stretch, and having expectations to meet gives us all that opportunity. So, embrace expectations.