It’s all about perspective

So this morning I walk into the kitchen at 5:20a.m. Don’t even ask me how long the rest of my nocturnal crew has been awake. I see my husband, Mark, standing in front of the island sink. He is absent-mindedly spraying the sink basin with Pam cooking spray. He does this for approximately 10 seconds as I silently watch with perplexity. Next he returns the Pam to the pantry and pulls out his carton of Egg Beaters. After a few violent shakes, he opens the carton and proceeds to pour several servings of Egg Beaters down the drain to follow the Pam cooking spray. At this point, I am finding it hard to keep quiet.

So I say, in a less than kind tone, “What the hell are you doing? Why would you waste food like that?” I am irritated, and yes a bit concerned, that during the night he has lost or hopefully only misplaced some of his mental faculties. He looks up and simply says, “I’m making my breakfast.”

Now Mark enjoys a good joke and has never missed an opportunity to tease, toy with, or good-naturedly yank my rather easily accessible chain. But at this point, I am not amused. We are working hard to make ends meet. We are living sparsely, avoiding waste and trying to maintain a cash only spending regiment. Why would someone in that position carelessly spill an entire meal down the drain?

“What is seriously wrong with you?” I ask more with bewilderment than ire. “Nothing,” he retorts, still standing over his eggless creation in the sink. At this point, I’m taking into consideration the possibility that he has had some type of brain aneurism and can no longer be held responsible for his behavior. I quickly move towards him to catch him in case he topples over from the force of the bursting vessel within his brain. But as I get to him, I see that sitting on the bottom of the sink is his microwave egg-cooker, filled with plenty of Pam and two servings of Egg Beaters. He, of course, is snickering madly. He picks up his cooker, places it in the microwave and turns it on for 1:30 seconds.

“Why did you do that?” I continued my interrogation despite his giggles and snorts. “It’s more efficient,” he explained. “I don’t get Pam all over the counter and if I spill any of the Egg Beaters, I just turn on the faucet and clean the sink.”

I had to admit that did actually make a lot of sense. But from my perspective across the room, watching his actions was like watching an inane rerun of The Three Stooges. But then it hit me; that is truly what life is about. (Not watching inane reruns of The Three Stooges.) Life is about how we each view the world from our unique vantage points. Thus our challenges in life, our relationship difficulties, our negative attitudes are only as accurate as we allow them to be. If we change our perspective, by say walking across a room, or bending down, or climbing a few rungs of a metaphorical ladder, we may actually see the entire world differently. That’s an enormous realization.

When we argue with people or when someone close to us hurts us, it’s so easy to accuse, condemn and vilify whomever has done us wrong. But maybe we’re not really seeing the full picture. Maybe what appears to be careless or random idiocy is really thoughtful and considerate conduct. Maybe if we shift our mental or emotional viewpoint we will see that the situation is vastly different from our original interpretation. And maybe, just maybe, we too will find ourselves laughing at misconceptions that never actually even existed.

3 Comments

Shhh! I’m trying to listen to myself!

Paper tigers can scare you as much as real ones!

Why is it we think our kids can escape the struggles we’ve spent our entire lives battling against? That’s what I kept thinking as my 10 year old son’s “talking doctor” explained to him that some kids have “worry brains” that always imagine the worst case scenario in every situation. So when I called my husband last night and asked him to meet me down the block so that our puppies didn’t become dinner to a wandering pack of coyotes I’d encountered, my son was certain that the phone call that led my husband out the front door was a tragic announcement of the demise of both myself and our beloved canines. It took several hours and a great deal of cognitive determination on all our parts to calm my son and finally coax him into bed.

But as I listened to him retelling the story today, there was something unnervingly familiar about his process; almost an eerie sense of deja vu engulfed me. Why? Because he is me! The anxiety. The worry. The incessant voices predicting doom and gloom. My first “talking doctor” called it “catastrophizing.” My son’s dramatic reactions are no different from the way I respond when instead of returning home at 6:30, my husband doesn’t arrive until 7:30 and I take myself step by step through the difficulties I will have to face as a newly widowed mother of two young boys.

I can’t help it. I tell myself irrational stories that scare the bejesus out of me. I’ve done this for as long as I can remember. Frankly, it amazes me when I meet people who don’t live in this type of constant agony. I try hard to contradict the voices that drone on in my head. Sometimes I’m even able to convince myself that whatever impending tragedy awaits me is merely a “paper tiger” as my dad used to say when I was a little girl and my anxiety first surfaced.

But somehow I conveniently forgot about brain genetics when I decided to have children. I guess if I’d realized that my sweet young babies would one day grow up to battle the same mental demons that have pursued me with such unwavering commitment all these years, I might have thought twice about having them. But then where would I be?

Maybe there’s a cosmic challenge here, a symbolic gauntlet that’s been laid at my feet. I need to stop the worry voices in my own head so that I can guide my son to a place of peace and ease within himself so that he doesn’t spend the rest of his life held hostage by a bunch of menacing voices whose only purpose is to keep him from becoming the amazing person he’s meant to become.

Hmmm…easier said than done.

4 Comments

Puppy deja vu

I’ve lost my mind again. Remember how we decided to get a puppy and everyone thought it would send me into a psychotic tailspin from which I’d never emerge? Well, it didn’t.

The fact is we got lucky. We got the one and only perfect puppy on the planet. It’s true. She has yet to do anything wrong. I”m not joking. This puppy is like from heaven. She’s never chewed up anything. She learned to use the doggy door in like an hour and a half and has not had any accidents in the house. She has the most gorgeous ebony coat and does not shed even a single hair.

I am madly in love with Maggie. The only issue is that she LOVES the company of other dogs. She adores us and everything. Finds people delightful and loving. She’s very affectionate with humans. But there is a deep, intense joy that eminates from within her when she gets around other dogs.

While we were out of town she vacationed with her foster mommy who had 3 or 4 other dogs. She was in her element. She did clearly miss us. But she played from sun-up to sun-down and had the time of her life.

Maggie just seems a little down these days

Now that she’s back, I think she’s kind of depressed. I can see it in her eyes. They’re just a bit listless

. She’s lost some of the spring in her step. She just seems like she’s lonely, no matter how much love and attention we give her.

So I think the only answer is another puppy. My sister hung up on me when I told her I was thinking about it. Everyone says I must be insane. The fact is, this is not what I necessarily want. I am liking having a dog for the first time in my life. But I never imagined myself the owner of more than one of these playful pooches.

But now that I am devoted to Maggie, I feel obligated to do what is right for her. Without a doubt, she needs a companion. It’s like her soul’s calling is to connect with another canine. What kind of person would keep a living creature from it’s truest, deepest purpose in life?

So I’m looking for the second most perfect puppy in the universe.(and a new prescription for Ativan). Any suggestions on where to find either or both?

1 Comment

Thank God summer vacation is finally over!

Look closely. Don't those kids look like they're just lovin' vacation?

Vacationing with kids is not vacationing. It’s parenting in another location without all of your resources.

I want to tattoo that sentence on my forehead so that I, and every parent I meet along the way, will remember that taking a family trip is different from taking a vacation.

I sometimes think that once you become a parent there’s this unwritten rule forbidding you from ever having a truly restful respite until maybe your kids reach college age. The funniest part about all of this is that while we’ve all been members of a family since our inception, none of us had any inkling about how exhausting and stressful family travel actually was until we became parents ourselves.

Think about it. Didn’t you used to treasure family vacations? Did you ever once think that your parents didn’t look forward to those times as much as you did? Hah! Now you know the truth!

Vacation parenting is harder than home parenting. You have no help, first of all. Your regular cadre of baby sitters isn’t available. Your friends aren’t there so you have no one to share those endless hours at the park with. Your kids don’t eat right. They don’t sleep well. They don’t have their favorite toys, books or best buds. Then, if you filter in the expectation piece of the whole thing; this idealistic belief that these are supposed to be the best times in your life, you end up with a perfect recipe for disaster and disappointment.

Now I’m not saying there aren’t great moments that occur during vacations. All I’m saying is that we strive for this unrealistic ideal and then spend an equal amount of time and energy berating ourselves for failing to achieve it. So I’ve compiled a list of 10 guilt free family vacation rules that should help all of us as we start planning for Christmas break:

1. You’re allowed to yell at your kids on vacation and that doesn’t make you a monster.
2. You have the right to put your children to bed at a reasonable hour.
3. You will not scar your children by refusing to buy them ridiculous tourist paraphernalia that you know damn well will never be looked at again after this trip.
4. You are not a bad parent if the thought of one of your children being abducted for a few hours hasn’t momentarily crossed your mind as one way of offering a much needed parenting break. (Of course they always get returned happy and unharmed, even in your most disturbing fantasies.)
5. You are strongly encouraged to say “no” at least three times a day.
6.There is no dessert for breakfast, no matter how convincing your child may be.
7. Baby sitters exist in every city. Get a recommendation from family or friends of a friend and then give yourself a few hours off.
8. Portable DVD players are a good thing. Plant your kids in front of one for an hour and take a nap.
9. Theme parks are for young people. Rent one or bring one with you so that you don’t have to act like you enjoy those horrible, nausea-inducing rides that make your kids giggle oh so gleefully.
10. Hotels and resorts provide kid’s clubs and activities for a reason. Use them!

I guarantee that if you follow my vacation guidelines, you will feel better about yourself as a parent, you will appreciate and enjoy your little ones and all of their mercurial wonder and whimsy, and, most importantly, you may even end up having a good time yourself.