What Our Mothers Never Told Us about the Change of Life

I was a late-life baby by 1950’s standards, born to my mother in her mid 30’s.  I remember her comments about being the youngest mother in PTA when my sister was born and the oldest by the time I came along.  So I had the questionable good fortune of being a teenager during her journey into menopause.  On one hand she was too tired to deal with teenage drama, so as long as I didn’t commit an offense of illegal proportion I was good to go.  On the other it was like living with unstable nitro.

I particularly remember Mom’s cake decorating phase, an explosion of flour, sugar and Crisco that produced everything from Winnie the Pooh cakes to edible Choo Choo trains.  It seemed strange at the time for us to consume entire cakes at one sitting, but now that I have panic attacks when my chocolate stash runs low, I get it.  Looking back, it is a wonder we ever got our hands on a cute caboose.  And then there were the petit fours.  Tiny pieces of delicate white cake layered with crème filling, smothered in a smooth flow of icing so sweet even my 16-year-old tastebuds revolted, topped with carefully executed designs of swirls and petals.  Filled with a recent nostalgia and visions of my own petit fours dancing in my head, I took out the recipe, then quickly decided I would rather shoot myself than go through all those steps.  Mom should have done the same.  I came home from school to a kitchen that looked like the aftermath of a Julia Child convention and Mom streaming tears as she bent over a half-dozen square blobs meant to resemble the carefully propped color photo on the counter.  The first, “Dammit” from my Christian mother should have warned me to head straight for me room.  But having my own premenstrual sugar craving in force held me firmly in the kitchen, politely asking, “Can I have one?”  I actually got two, straight in the chest (a third went wide and past my right ear), whereby Mom ran to her own room and didn’t reappear until the next day.  Dad and I ate the rest of the petit-fours-in-process for dinner.

Of course, menopause wasn’t a topic of dinner table discussions in those days; I just thought she was nuts.  I never connected the beloved Primarin bottle to hormonal upheaval that makes the teenage estrogen rollercoaster pale by comparison.  I thought she stayed awake nights to devise schemes meant to interfere with my life.   Now I know she was awake without benefit of Ambien and had nothing better to do.

Things have certainly changed today. Modern science and women’s liberation allow us to postpone a family until we’re darn good and ready to have one.  While great in theory, it boggles the mind to think about an entire generation of children born to barely premenopausal mothers.  Hot flashes during soccer practice.  Brain fog and algebra homework.  Forgetting your car pool pick up.  And instead of grounding our teenagers, perhaps we will just kill them.  If only we can remember where we left them…

 

Holiday Take Down

This year I am going to enjoy the holidays (there is a “dammit” buried in there somewhere, just for emphasis).  Shortly after my trip to Europe, before the high had even worn off, the holidays began to bear down on me.   Christmas trees before Halloween.  Inundation of holiday catalogs.  Thanksgiving logistics and free frozen turkeys.  The holiday tic was taking up residence near my left eye already.

I realized that I deserved something better.  Something better than the lengthy, and expensive, checklist that I usually slog my way through.  I’m shooting for something more along the lines of, “Thank God it’s Christmas”, rather than, “Thank God that’s over.”

Having been a coach since before it was a household word, I certainly know how to change things that aren’t working.  Time to kick in the formula:

AWARENESS + OUTCOME + ACTION = RESULT

Awareness was in the form of my bah-humbug attitude about the holidays.  I caught myself entering chore mode about the whole thing.  Time to stop and regroup.

Outcome was obvious.  I want to enjoy the holidays like I did when I was a kid (when someone else did all the work!); looking forward to putting up the tree, wandering the mall for the perfect gift (for me), and wishing the season would last a bit longer.

Action is the challenging part but I’m off to a great start.  I completed 90% of my Christmas shopping online yesterday in less than an hour.  There will be less under the tree this year but perhaps I’ll have enough holiday energy left to lie under it naked and Don won’t even notice!  We are doing Thanksgiving on a smaller scale with finer cuisine than comes from my kitchen, saving energy, money and waistline (no leftovers!) by eating out – a holiday first.  Christmas will be hosted here and my gift to the ever-increasing number of Prolific Pools will be a truly happy countenance and a large table to hold the pitch-in items.  I may even have the kids decorate the tree when they get here.

Instead of music at the Myerson, I’d rather see a Christmas play at church.  I want to find a to-die-for cookie recipe that doesn’t have trans fats (sorry Mom).  I want to talk to people rather than send out Christmas cards.  I want time to light a fire and energy to enjoy it.  I want to embrace the holiday spirit and share it gracefully.

So I’m off to a good start and see results already.  Now if I could just get past Don’s company karaoke party…

 

Embracing the European Vacation

America, the Land of the Free and Home of the Brave, seems to fall short when it comes to taking vacations.  Somehow we aren’t free enough or brave enough to take a real vacation lasting more than six fun-filled, jam-packed days.

I like the European method of just shutting the country down during the summer so people can get the hell out of Dodge and really relax.  We’re talking taking weeks off at one time.  Let’s face it: it takes at least three days to get work out of your head (assuming you left your computer at the office and your Crackberry at home) and stop treating vacation like another item on the to-do list.

So this year I am taking a European Vacation, 24 days in Europe.  Over three weeks without voice mail, email, clients, doing laundry, or feeding the dogs.   Nothing but eating fresh pasta and admiring architechture that is older than our country.  I go limp just thinking about it.

Of course, the US won’t shut down while I’m noshing my way through five countries, so work is already piling up like the proverbial train wreck before departure.  But somehow I will survive the storm before the calm, knowing that regardless of what does or doesn’t get done, I’m outta here in 18 days!

 

To Twit or not to Twit…

First it was the blog.  Then the Crackberry addiction.  LinkedIn, then Facebook.  And now I’m a Twit.  I’m not sure if I’m keeping up with the times or needing an intervention.  Tonight I sent someone a pecking chicken for their virtual farm, so I think that gives me an answer.

Now it takes all evening just to keep up with my social network.  At least I have one.  Some of them I even know.  I’m not sure how sincere Franchise2Go is about being a follower of my Twitter updates, but at least I have a follower.  I’ve heard you can hire consultants to develop your social network “brand” and grow your friend / follower count.   Go figure…paying someone to find you friends. 

I’m not jumping on that bandwagon, so maybe my blog fans (few but loyal) can sign up to see my “Coaching Tweet of the Day”.  It would sure boost my ego and give Mr. Franchse2Go some competition. 

http://twitter.com/MBACOACH 

 

Judgment Day

We spend a lot of energy on judgment.  Judging others, feeling judged.  Some of us make it our life’s work.  Judgment rarely serves us well, unless we use it as a learning tool, so here is something that may surprise you: 

When we judge by others, we are really covering our own gaps.

Take a moment to think about what consistently sets you off about other people.  Try completing this sentence:  I can’t stand people who… 

…are inconsiderate.   Where do you see yourself as lacking in this area?
…think I am too young/old to do this job.  Maybe you are the one who thinks you are too young/old.
…think they are better than others.   Do you harbor secret thoughts of superiority – or inferiority?
…are really assertive.  Maybe you wish you could be a little more assertive yourself.
…don’t respect me.  Perhaps you don’t respect yourself.

Once you transfer this energy of outward judgment into accepting or improving yourself, you’ll notice something amazing!  The less you negatively judge yourself, the less you will judge others and the less you will feel judged by others.  Maybe there is really something to that Bible scripture, “Judge not, that ye be not judged“

But don’t take my word on it…judge for yourself.

For tips on how to identify and change your inner critic, read Mirror…Mirror.

 

Free at last!

We did it!  The Pools are debt-free.  Seven months, a hundred brown bag lunches,  and zero impulse buys later, Don and I eliminated twenty-seven thousand dollars of non-mortgage debt and officially live well below our means.

If you read my August 2008 post, you’ll remember my worry-wort mentality around money.  After numerous and ineffective attempts to change this, I figured the only way to lose the ball-and-chain was to always have more than we needed.  While eliminating debt is only the first step on this journey, it has been a fascinating and challenging path so far.  It feels both strange and exhilarating to be excited about our finances when the rest of the country is at the low end of the financial mood scale.

How did we do it?  By finding the difference between what we needed and what we thought we needed and putting the difference towards what we already bought that we thought we needed but probably didn’t.  Creating and following a budget sucks, but that is nothing compared to looking your expenses straight in the eye and knowing beyond a shadow of a doubt that more goes out than comes in.  This is the real financial crisis in our country.

I went through serious withdrawals.  Like an addict dying for a smoke, I fantasized about shoes, a vacation, new bathroom rugs and a car wash that didn’t require me.  Dining out was burgers on the patio.  Even the dogs were on half-biscuit rations.  Don was a financial trooper but I fell off the wagon a couple of times, usually regarding my two weaknesses: food and garden paraphernalia.  The new rototiller set us back a few weeks but we persevered.  I learned a lot about myself in the process.

So now instead of money controlling me, I control it.  Instead of charge cards (“what’s in your wallet”), we have cash.  Instead of car loans, we have car titles. 

Big thanks to Dave Ramsey’s talk radio show that gave me both strategies and a daily shot of support as I passed up yet another Starbucks.  Keith Chapman, our financial advisor, was a big help on ways to make our money work both harder and smarter in the down market before the market tanked.  That’s twice you’ve saved our financial butts, Keith.  I owe you a piece of Lawry’s famous coconut cream pie.  And I’ll buy!

 

Getting rich with dog hair

These days I have been giving lots of thought to how Don and I will fund our retirement.  Obviously our portfolio has taken a hit, although not as much as some thanks to our financial adviser extraordinaire, Keith Chapman.  But the real problem is we can’t make it or save it fast enough to create more than a mac-and-cheese retirement life and I’m more of a sushi kind of gal.  So I’m trying to be creative and come up with additional income streams that will fund unlimited raw fish and a few cool vacations when I’m old and gray (wait…I’m already gray and getting older every day).

It seemed like all the good ideas have been taken, until I noticed yet another drift of dog hair floating across the kitchen floor.  Eureka!  Dog hair!!  Talk about a renewable resource that is not being tapped in to!  The uses for dog hair must be endless.  Someone has already cornered the market on crafts and Martha Stewart has a blog about spnning it!  So it is time to get creative and go for something really new…

• Blow-in insulation.  Non-toxic, unless you are allergic, and then we could use Poodle hair (for a premium charge, of course).  Poodle’s don’t shed, but we could shave them like sheep and it would grow back.
• Toupees (West Highland White Terriors for older balding men) and cancer wigs (Afghan hounds and Irish Setters).
• Garden compost (it does decompose eventually, doesn’t it?).  Not really new but no one is doing it on a big scale.
• Alternative fuel.  If the engineers can figure out how to make a car run on corn, surely they can do the same with dog hair and it won’t take food out of the mouths of starving children in China.
• Flooring.  Compress dog hair into flexible, durable carpet squares.  Good for both indoor and outdoor use.  Available in a wide variety of colors and textures.  Match to your own pet and never see dog hair again!

Please add your own ideas and let’s see if we can get some legs on this thing!   Dreams of patents and residuals are dancing through my head…

 

25 things most people don’t know about me

This is what you blog about when you don’t know what to blog about!

1. I used to be an automechanic for a Corvette shop.  I rebuilt engines and carburetors, back when cars actually had them.
2. I married mid-term my senior year of highschool, on purpose and I wasn’t pregnant.  What were my parents thinking!
3. My favorite pasttime growing up was hanging upside down.
4. When I was 12, I was denied a career as a guide dog trainer because I was a female.  I guess I showed them!
5. I am a faculty member at a university but have never been enrolled in one.
6. I just hit my seven year anniversary as a yogi – and I still can’t stand on my head.
7. I won an art contest when I was four – and continue to draw at about that same level.
8. I was first chair clarinet in high school. 
9. Yes, I actually made and used computer punch cards in a former work life.
10. I was bitten by a police dog every weekend for a year.
11. I raced on the Indy 500 track, twice.
12. My IQ and my weight are identical.
13. I was addicted to drugs in my 20’s.
14. I was addicted to work in my 30’s.
15. I was addicted to personal growth in my 40’s.
16. I am cultivating a chocolate addiction for my 50’s.
17. 3 years at an inner-city high school left me with a crippling phobia of large, black women that I have recently overcome.
18. My mother used to add rick rack to the bottom of my pants when I grew too much in one year.  At 5′ 10″, I still have a phobia of rick rack.
19. I won a regional square dance competition (while wearing a country skirt, petticoat and silver dance shoes – pictures of which have since been destroyed).
20. With my love of cooking, crafts and gardening, I could easily be content with the job of stay-at-home housewife, if only it paid better.
21. I have an endless supply of empathy for unhappy situations, but I have run out of patience with unhappy people. 
22. I am very shy, and hide it well.
23. I have the largest private collection of blown glass made by three generations of the Lawrence family in Brown County, Indiana.
24. I looked forward to turning 50…until I actually turned 50.
25. My first boyfriend, Mike, wouldn’t let me tell anyone that he was my boyfriend.  It took me a while to figure out, “He’s just not that in to you”.  I’m sure he has since regretted that decision.

 

Grace and Gratitude

Gratitude comes to us at the strangest times, and in unexpected places.  Don father passed away last week, after a long and difficult battle with an aging body.  Sadness and relief partnered together the past few days as the extended family moved from hospital room to funeral home to gravesite to muted gatherings.

Gene was an Army vetran and had a military funeral.  It was almost surreal to drive through the National Cemetary and see the perfectly aligned rows of gray headstones, looking almost like soldiers themselves, standing at attention for eternity.   Thousands of them, hills and valleys full of them.  At that moment, I felt the first twinge.

It has taken almost 50 years for me to recognize that the base of my spine owns the role of emotional barometer.  The pain comes out of nowhere, strong and persistent, my body’s way of feeling what my brain chooses to ignore.  I’ve learned that the faster I recognize the source and just feel it, the sooner I can get that hot poker out of my back.  Brief soul searching during the procession came up dry and I couldn’t figure out what this one was about. 

The answer came with a vengence as the two color guards took the flag from the coffin, folded it with exquisite care, and presented it to Gene’s wife, now his widow.  Without conscious thought, I became her, knowing, “This could have been me.”  This could have been the flag covering my son’s coffin, as it was so many others who didn’t come back from Iraq.  This could have been my unwanted sacrifice to my country.  And for one brief moment it was.  There by the grace of God go I.

And as the tears flowed, the pain left and gratitude was mine.

 

The Real Secret

I have to admit to being a real fan of The Secret, probably watching it six or seven times and hosting two Secret “parties”.  I do believe that most everything is available to us if we are willing to believe that it is available.  But The Secret buzz quickly died down when most of us couldn’t quickly manifest our dreams, or we got distracted by the price of fuel and an overflowing in box.

I also think that the concept was just too big for people to hold on to.  Deeper beliefs often get in the way of the new kid on the block:  “Do I deserve this?”  “I should work hard for what I have.” “Nothing comes easy.”  “You can’t get something for nothing.”  A new belief cannot take hold without the old beliefs accepting it and making room.  So The Secret of universal manifestation slipped off the radar and life went plodding along.

Now let me share something that you can wrap your head around.  Let’s call it the Real Secret.  Rather than a mind-blowing universal concept, the Real Secret is more of a proven law of nature.  Here it is:

You get what you want when you know what you want.

Sounds simple but I see this time and time again.  People that are crystal clear about what they want - see it in great detail, think about it from all angles, remind themselves of it regularly – get what they want.  People that think of their desire in general terms (“I’d like to have more money”), or if some part of them doesn’t want it (“Don’t be so greedy”), won’t get it. 

Here’s why it works.  When your brain is presented with a clear, detailed  message about what you want, and all parts of you are on board with it, your brain will work behind the scenes to make it happen.  It will create solutions, see possibilities, generate energy.  It’s like having a powerful clone of yourself that can work for you when you are too busy to.  What you want will seem to ”manifest” effortlessly, when your brain has actually been working overtime on it.

But don’t take my word for it.  Try it for yourself and tap in to the power of the Real Secret: your brain.