jennethink

THAT REMINDS ME OF A STORY ...

As most things, do, Steakbellie's comment about being able to hold your own body weight on one of my recent posts reminds me of a story.

A couple of years ago I told The Husband I wanted to start lifting weights.  So we went to the gym and began.  I loved it.  I know if you are a boy, you don't understand how intimidating lifting can be for a girl.  But it really can be.  Besides the fact that we don't know what we are doing, most of you boys stare at us when we are lifting.  Also there is this weird vibe you can get from the other people who are lifting that you aren't good enough to be lifting.  I don't know - maybe everyone feels this at the gym at times but it really bugs me.  I mean here I am trying to make myself better and if I can only curl 15 pounds then back off.  I'm doing my best. 

Of course, being the mature person that I am I tried to come up with something I could do that other girls in the gym couldn't do and that I didn't see most of the boys doing.  After a few weeks I told The Husband I wanted to do "those dip things"  - mostly because the guys I saw doing them were the muscle-shirt/skull-cap wearing guys who drank protein shakes in the middle of their workout and I thought it would be really cool if I could "show them up."   

Well, I sure did have to work up to doing those dips.  I started by doing them on a bench with my feet on the floor.  Eventually progressed to doing them on one bench with my feet up on another bench.  Then with a 5 pound weight in my lap.  Then 10.  Then 20.

One day I went over to the dip bar thingy and put both my hands on either side of me. In one motion, I lifted myself up, bent my knees, crossed my ankles and just like that, did 10 beautiful dips - perfectly executed.

Definitely better than Skull-caps dips.

I continued this for quite a while.  I got better.  I even wanted to put on the weight belt and hang a big ol' weight off of it but The Husband gently reminded me that it probably looked better doing 20 unweighted dips than 1 weighted dip that landed me first in a heap on the floor then in the hospital.

He's practical that one.

Anyway ... not too long later I announced that I wanted to start doing pull-ups. 

The Husband:  Pull-ups?

Me:  Yeah.

The Husband:  Okay.

He then walked me over to the pull up bar.  It was just high enough that I could reach it with my fingertips if I stood on my toes.  "Give me a boost!" I say.  He boosts.  Soon I am hanging all of 1/2 inch off the floor.  "K,"  he says  "Pull up."

I pulled.  A noise came out of me the likes I've never heard.  I pulled again.  I pulled again.  I pulled and pulled.  However, I pulled UP not so much.

"Huh"  I say and let go of the bar, "I think I need to work up to it."

"Good idea," says The Husband,  "I'll lift you up until your chest is even with the bar.  You grab the bar and then I'll let go, and you just slowly let yourself down." 

"Will that work?" I say

"Sure," he says, then he must have thought a little harder because he turned around and pulled over a bench.  "Actually," he says "it might be better if you just step on this, grab the bar, then step off."  I chose not to question his reasons for not wanting to hoist me up himself. 

So I step on the bench.

I grab the bar.

"Just like this?"  I say

"Just like that" he says,  "Now just step off the bench and hold yourself as long as you can.  When you can't hold yourself any longer, lower yourself to the ground slowly."

"Slowly?"

"Yeah. Ready?"

"I'm ready!" I say

"Step off," he says.

"Okay!" I say

"Watch the bench" he says

"Here I go!" I say

"Alright" he says

"Count to three!" I say

"One" he says

"Two" we say

"Thr ..."

I took a deep breath, moved my right foot off the bench, wondered how long I would be able to hang, and the very next instant I was on the floor.

"..ee." He said

I spun around angrily, "Why did you pull me down?!"

and he said

"I didn't."

Turns out it was my ass that pulled me down.  Although swear it felt like someone was trying to pull my legs off, like a 6th grader was hanging from my waist,  like that chick at the beginning of Cliffhanger was dangling over a huge crevasse from my ankle, like 12 monkeys were trying to depants me.  That's how it felt.

So to bring the story full circle, good for you Steakbellie, if you can pull your own weight, literally.  Short of losing my legs and glutes in a freak heavy machinery accident, I don't think I'll ever be able to.

THE GOODBYE GIRLS

Yesterday I was talking to my sister and she had to take a business call during the conversation.  When she came back to the line she said "I need to come up with something other than 'bye-bye' to end my conversations. I don't think bye-bye sounds very professional."  I said "How about 'Toddles!'?"  She laughed.  We then began building a list of ways to say goodbye without saying goodbye.

"Ta ta for now!"

"Toodles noodles!"

"Love ya mean it."

"Later, gator."

"Catch ya on the flip side."

"Fade to black, role credits!"

etc.

We began to speculate how people would react.  We got a good laugh out of it.  I mean at the end of just a normal conversation with friends, the above sign offs might be okay, but with business contacts ...

"Ok, Jeffrey, I'll work on some ideas for your team and get back with you before the end of the day.  I appreciate you thinking of me for this project.  See ya, wouldn't wanna be ya." <click>

So we've begun an experiment.  We've agreed to end all business calls for the next week or so with one of the above sign-offs and see what reaction, if any, we get. 

I honestly don't think anyone will even notice.  And if they notice, I don't think they'll say anything about it.  And if they say anything about it, I can't wait to hear what it is!

WHERE DO THEY FIND ALL THESE PEOPLE?

Do you think that eventually we'll all be required to appear on a reality show?  And if so, what one would you do best on? 

CELEBRITY FIT CLUB

No, seriously, where are they coming up with these "celebrities"? 

Here's the current list:

Jeff Conaway (he's not on anymore because he had to go into rehab)

Bruce Vilanch

Chastity Bono

Countess Vaughn

Bizarre

Kelly LeBrock

Tempest Bledsoe

Young MC

Gunner Nelson (yes, THE Gunner Nelson)

You can see their before pictures here.

I don't like to talk badly about anyone.  Especially someone who is trying to better themselves.  I have a big soft spot for overweight people (some would call it my butt - HA!) because I struggle with maintaining a healthy weight and lifestyle.  Also because I have overweight people in my family and also because if you don't struggle with your weight you have no idea how difficult it is to literally wear your biggest weakness and failure around every day for everyone to see.  So even though some of these celebrities would be easy targets - my natural tendency is to lay off and follow Cowboy Bob's advice: "if you can't say anything nice, don't say anything at all."

But!  Come on.  Have you watched this show?  It really peeves me.  Why is it that people who aren't celebrities can go to "the ranch" on the show The Biggest Loser and lose like 18 pounds in a week and the participants on Celebrity Fit Club (who, frankly, aren't celebrities either) can't seem to shed even a pound over the course of two or more weeks.

Yeah, that bugs me. (It also bugs me when a celebrity gets on the scale and they say "Last week you weighed 165 pounds,"  then they activate the scale "...and this week you weigh ...... 160 pounds!" and then the celebrity goes "HOW MUCH IS THAT???"  I mean really ... you can't do that math in your head? But I digress.)

As I think about it, I think the difference between the two groups is The Decision.  I think the people who go on The Biggest Loser, are doing it because they have decided to lose weight and hey, maybe I can win some bucks in the process. 

However, people on Celebrity Fit Club are, most likely, paid for their appearance.  They only decided to commit time to the show taping - they haven't committed themselves to the process.  They haven't decided.

If you've decided - truly decided - that you are going to be different, then you will be different.  Isn't that true?  Isn't that the first - and most important - step?  You have to decide. 

WORDS OF WISDOM

From the Kid ...

"Daddy, here's an advice, if someone is doing something you don't like, just go to them and say 'will you please stop?' and that way they will stop and you won't have to be mad."

We were driving when she let loose with this pearl and I was just amazed at how smart that kid is.  It's really hard to argue with wisdom like that.  I started thinking of how great that little piece of advice is. And how many people and situations I know that could be fixed by applying her advice.  Just as I was getting ready to open my mouth and tell her how smart she is, she added this:

"here's another advice, if you need to pick your nose, put a tissue around your thumb before you stick it up there."

the mouths of babes ...

THE FAMILY PORTRAIT

When we get together, The Family likes to take a group picture.  This duty usually falls to me. I post these, in order, without comment so you understand what I go through.  Please understand that this process took nearly 30 minutes.

The Family.  They aren't the brightest, or the easiest to wrangle, but they are kinda cute.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY SWEETPEA

Dearest Kid,

Today you are 7.  SEVEN!  I can hardly believe it.  You are growing up so fast.  I know every adult says that and I know you cannot understand it but the days and years are flying by for those of us who are honored to be raising you.

You were only 4 when you came into my life.  I can remember the day we first met.  I already knew I would become your Step-mom and I was filled with every emotion in the book. Your father and I had already discussed our life together and it seemed so odd to me that someone I had never met would be such a huge part of my future.  I quickly realized that this wasn't going to be about me.  Our relationship was going to be about you.  What you needed,  What you wanted, What you deserved.

I forget that sometimes, Snoopy.  I forget that my needs don't come first.  I forget that what I think I deserve comes after what you deserve.  That makes me impatient at times.  That makes me pout like a five year old.  That makes me argue with you sometimes over the smallest stuff that doesn't even matter.  Will you forgive me for that?  I'm doing better.  I'm learning every day about what it means to have a child.  I'm learning how to be a the best step-mom I can be.  For you, dear one.  for you.

Maybe every mom feels impatient and unwilling and selfish at time.  I secretly hope this is true. I hope all moms  - not just step-moms - feel incompetent, I don't know.  I guess I just want to think I'm not alone in feeling this way.  And if I am, I'd like to think that I have a built-in excuse - that maybe the reason this is hard is because I didn't grow you inside me.  Maybe if I had I wouldn't feel lost and scared when I think about being a parent.  Maybe if you were the flesh of my flesh this would all come easily to me.  Maybe. 

Do you remember when we argued about the flip-flops?  You were five.  You wanted to play dress up.  You needed heels.  We went to my closet and I picked out what I thought were the perfect pair.  They were white, they had a black heel, they were high enough to be sassy but not too high.  They were one of my favorite pairs of shoes and I offered them to you.  You refused them with these words "they're flip-flops."

I knew why you were saying that.  They did, indeed, have a piece of leather that went between the big toe and the next toe.  But they are not, by any means, flip-flops.  And I told you so.  And again you looked right at me and said,

"they're flip-flops"

So it began.  "I know why you are saying that, honey, but see they aren't, they have a heel, they are leather, I wear them when I dress up ..." and I went down an entire list of reasons that these shoes were perfect - not to mention they were expensive.  Your reply?

"flip-flops."

Clearly I had lost. It was that day, when you father got home, that I announced I refused to argue with a 5 year old again.

Every time I think of that story I laugh. I never thought a little girl could make me laugh so hard and oh you can drive me mad too!  You can frustrate me.  You can hurt my feelings.  You can take me from elation to despair with one clearly stated "She's not my mom!" to the deli man who offers you a piece of cheese if "mom says it is okay."  Will you forgive me for that too?  Will you forgive me for being so sensitive? I've come to realize this has very little to do with you and very much to do with me.  I had to change my attitude a couple of years ago.  I had to stop wishing I was your "real" mom.  I had to let go of all the baggage that went with that and I had to embrace my role in your life.  My role as step-mom. 

Step-mom.

It hasn't been easy.  Step-moms get a tough rap.  And as illogical and childish as it seems maybe someday you'll understand why I've removed all the Cinderella books from your room.  I'm trying to create a different stereotype for you.  At least for you.  I can't change the world, after all, but I'm doing my best.  The truth is, if you can get past the selfish part, it's good to be The Step-mom.  Step-mom sees things your other parents don't.  Step-mom focuses on your future and the woman you are going to be.  Step-mom has stood her ground with you - even when it was hard. Step-mom got your ears pierced with you and Step-mom is teaching you about empathy and compassion and flexibility.  Step-mom is showing you how you should expect to be treated by a man when you grow up.  Step-mom is reinforcing for you what an amazing man your father is.  Step-mom is showing you how to respond to difficult circumstances.  Step-mom is growing so much because of you.  It is good to be YOUR Step-mom.  Of all my roles and accomplishments, I am most proud of being your father's wife and your Step-mom.

And how could I not be.  When I hear you ask your dad how his day was when he gets home - I'm so proud of your compassion and interest in others.  When I see voluntarily stop whining even though you really really really want to and then announce with glee "I DID IT! I CHANGED MY BEHAVIOR" - I want to burst open because you are learning the joys of personal growth and self-awareness.  When I hear you tell the little girl at jazzercise who lost her princess doll "that's why we don't bring toys to jazzercise" - I want to die at hearing my own voice come out of your mouth - but secretly I'm so proud of you because you are getting it!  You are learning and growing and becoming the woman who you are meant to be.

I couldn't be prouder of you.

You are funny.  You are wise.  You are delightful.  You are kind.  You are smart.  You are aware of others.  You are gentle.  You are insightful.  You are good friend to your friends.

You are truly a gift.  You, like your father, are proof to me that there is a God and that God loves me very much.  I look into your face, Silly Child, when you are sleeping and I want to hold onto you forever.  I want to keep you at the age you are because I cannot imagine that you'll get any better.  I think there is no way at seven you will be any more of a joy than you were at six.  Then I remember I thought the same thing about six.  And five.  You surprise me every day with how loving, compassionate, and smart you are.  I don't know how "real" moms feel when they look at their daughters.  I don't know if there is a different sense of pride because they created that life.  I don't know if those mothers lay claim to their children differently than I do to you.  I cannot imagine that they do. I cannot imagine that a "real" mom would feel any thing greater than I feel for you.  I cannot imagine anyone could love you as long as deep as wide and as high as I do.

If you understand nothing else, I want you to understand this.  I didn't conceive you - not in traditional way - but, sweetheart, you were born in my thoughts and dreams long ago. Like a far-off wish, a foggy dream, you were there.  I knew the idea of you long before I knew you. 

You didn't grown under my heart for nine months - but you've grown in it for these three years.

Happy Birthday Darling Daughter. 

Love,

Step-mom.

IMAGINE MY SURPRISE

It turns out I like people.

I was meeting a client today for breakfast.  I got to the restaurant first.  After I took off my coat, I heard my name.  I turned to see a table full of men.  They were former colleagues of mine when I was at BEAP.  There was the EVP, the presidents of a couple of divisions, the head of biz development, and the lead insight guy.  We all had spent a lot of time together when we worked together working to shape the company.  I could look around the table and, save the new guy whom I'd never met, I could think of times when every one of them had driven me crazy.  I could think of examples for each of them when they - in my opinion - acted like complete turkeys.  I could think of heated debates, disagreements, even tears and insults.  And the amazing thing is that as quickly as I thought of those things, they were gone.  I was genuinely happy to see these guys. The instant I saw them, I missed them.  I headed toward the first of these guys with arms open and he was on his feet in a second.  As I hugged him I looked over his shoulder at the next guy who said "Girl, how are you!?" and he got up.  That's "give me a hug" language if I ever heard it and hug him I did.  Knox was next.  I really like Knox.  Another hug and as I looked over his shoulder I saw the new guy.  I don't know the new guy.  But I'm on a roll by this time so I said to him, "I don't know you but get up cause I'm headed your way!"  What a good sport, he was on his feet in a split second and we met with a hug rather than a handshake.  My old boss was next.  Hug.  Then another guy who I admire.  Hug. 

It was a hugfest.

I loved working with them when I did work with them.  I learned so much about myself, about business, about teams.  It was so good to see them all. 

And it was even better to walk away.

I'm exactly where I'm meant to be.

MOVE OVER RUBIK'S

As a Life Strategist, I am lucky to be able to do many meaningful, important things in a day.

Making this cube today out of my business cards is, admittedly, not one of them.

THE ORANGE DOG WEARS A HAT

HA!