discipline

by

UBER is teaching my son about the abuse of generosity

IMG_4834

One afternoon, late in the day, Brad walked into the living room, stood in front of the TV, yanked his phone out of his pants pocket, and as he was stating “I’m gonna head out to LA with my friends…” he looked at the face of the phone and finished with, “Never mind. I guess they left without me.” He went on to tell me that the plan was that a few of the guys were going into Los Angeles for about an hour simply to sell a much-wanted backpack to an interested party somewhere on Melrose.

He finished his story saying he was going to meet up with another friend at the park to ball-up while they waited for the other guys to return from their quick trip.

A few hours later I sent Brad a text asking “Sup?” in which he returned my response with a call back. He was upset. Not five minutes before my text, the friends who had driven in to LA, or rather were driven by a friend of a friend of a friend, contacted Brad pleading with him to pay for an UBER to take them back home. Apparently, their original driver had other things to do and didn’t mention she wasn’t planning on returning to town that evening.

Brad is a very generous kid in that he loves when he can pay for things, especially when he knows his friends carry empty wallets. He’ll buy them food, clothes, tickets to concerts, etc. because he is given a regular allowance. And I have no problem with his kindness as long as it fits into his budget. Plus, as his mom I seriously love that he thinks about others and sharing the wealth.

But, that evening when his friends needed a ride home from Los Angeles because apparently they hadn’t planned how they’d return, Brad was the first person they thought of, which sort of questioned the value of his friendship with them (because, remember they left without him, for no reason). To add to that his anger was exasperated when he told them he didn’t have enough cash in his bank account and one of the guys said, “Ah, man, don’t worry, the amount of the ride will go through. It’ll just leave your balance as a negative.” These dudes managed to make him feel bad so he gave in, and it was right at that moment he had returned my text with a call, which in turn pissed me off, not at Brad, but at his friends motives. I kept the thoughts to myself, wanting Brad to work through it on his own. To figure out how to handle his feelings, and the situation that has made him wonder what a good friend really is.

And to top it off, when they did return from LA later that night, the boys never told Brad what happened on Melrose, if they did indeed sell the backpack, if so, for how much, and worse “Thank you,” was never said, which irked Brad to no end. He ended up returning home that night because he couldn’t deal with these people. Sadly, he began to wonder if they really were his friends or if he was simply a cash cow.

As much as he loves giving, Brad’s realized that he  needs to be careful with the way he shares his generosity. The next day, the day after the UBER incident, as he was sitting in someone’s living room with the guys, feeling cooled-off, in control, someone said they needed an UBER. Brad kept his mouth shut, didn’t offer… anything, didn’t say a word until one of his friends asked if he would pay for the UBER. He matter-of-factly stated “No.” And that was that. Lesson learned.

by

Understanding Boundaries

IMG_1738

Setting boundaries makes life easier and expectations are better understood. It may take time for those boundaries to cement themselves in place, but the effort is definitely worth it. 

I sent this sentiment to my kids this morning, just a random feeling I felt about what we give and take within our daily lives, the setbacks and promises.

You see, we all need, each one of us, space to thrive. Our own space. So that when we choose to bring others into our circle, we are ready to engage, fully.

If the boundaries we set are loose and inconsistent, then we never get to a place of knowing exactly what it is we hope for, whether it be within personal relationships or more of a happenstance of interacting with others in which we are all desiring the simple, daily respect we all deserve.

When we allow ideas and wishes to become jumbled, thrown around, without the thoughts required to attain the promises life presents to us it is only each of us, individually, that suffers.

Therefore, it’s important to set boundaries, carving out our own personal space to rejuvenate mind, body, and soul because then, and only then, will life’s rewards happen, allowing us to enjoy the joys of life.

by

fifteen divided by five equals three

THREE FIVE-SENTENCE NANO-FICTION STORIES
(A challenge I was given 3 years ago that, obviously, I overlooked, or something)
Write three separate and unrelated stories, each consisting of exactly five sentences.



¹

“Stop!” she yelled. Silence. Everyone froze. The boy she was referring to smirked. But he quickly wiped that cockiness off his face when her seething eyes pierced the humor right out of him.

²

A man and a woman chatted. Lively conversation filled the air with happiness. The aroma of a home-cooked meal danced around the house. An opened front door filled with their children. Laughter followed and stayed for the weekend.

³

Ready. Or not. Here I write. Spilling my vulnerable soul. Into the hearts of humanity.

by

Cry Baby, Cry

Anyone watching Jane the Virgin, on the CW? You’ve got to if you’re not. So funny! So soap opera-y. All kinds of twists and turns. Great cast. Great storyline. Fun watch.

One scene that stood out this morning, while watching a recording of this past Monday’s show (S2|E9 “Chapter Thirty-One) is how Jane (the main character played by Gina Rodriguez) deals with her baby waking up at all hours of the night, crying.

IMG_7783

What a blast to the past! Elizabeth was my baby-in-training. Without much thought, just lots of common sense, when Liz arrived to that point when she cried during the night, was no longer a ‘newborn’, rather she was around the 9 month mark, I knew I had to break her of the potential bad habit of wailing unnecessarily and me running to her, attending to her every whim. Hence, the “Let her cry.” situation started, no matter Rudy’s apprehension.

During the show’s episode, Jane spends lots of time reading up on material explaining the value of gentle, soothing ways to help babies sleep through the night, which disrupts everyone else’s sleep, and irritates Grandma, the character I most identify with. She tells Jane to just let Mateo (the baby) cry. Jane thinks that’s a mean, selfish remedy.

Back in my new-parenting days, my adorable, bright smiling Elizabeth was beginning to recognize and understand (as I am sure we are all attuned to, even at such a young age) routines, our daily happenings and what happens when. So, for me, 7:30 pm was the prime time to put her down to sleep for the night. Beforehand she ate (her delicious jarred baby food, a warmed bottle of milk) and had a soothing bath. I swathed her in comfortable cotton baby wear, gently laid her in her crib, kissed her goodnight, told her how much I loved her, then walked out of the room, closing the door behind me. (Note: Rudy was part of this routine, though there was a long span of time he was working the graveyard shift, therefore Elizabeth’s sleep routine was almost solely my own).

Anyway, five minutes later she began to cry. In my heart-of-hearts I knew I was doing the right thing by leaving her to cry herself to sleep (plus, a doctor once told me that Elizabeth was strengthening her lungs with all the hollering she did, which I considered a healthy bonus). Knee-deep into the routine was when Rudy experienced the crying for the first time (because of a night off from work). He’d sit outside her bedroom door and feel for her. He’d shed tears, and say things like “Just let me hold her for a minute.” but I knew I had to be firm, not really because of the crying but because I was trying to establish a routine for Liz.

It took about two weeks, maybe two and a half, for Elizabeth to realize her crying wasn’t getting her the attention she desired so that when, one night, I followed the same routine I always did she watched me walk out of the room, heard me close the door, and fell asleep.

Allowing her to fall asleep on her own, without me spending time rocking her, holding her, feeding her at all hours of the night, in the long run benefitted all of us, but mostly Elizabeth. As she grew older, bedtime was just that. Bedtime. She never challenged us. She knew 7:30 pm was the end of her day and as she got older and the time changed to 8:00, then 9:00, then 10:00. And she accepted each time frame. And overall, in the end, Elizabeth loved bedtime, going to sleep after a long day of play, school, or whatever.

Jane’s grandma has it right, in my opinion. Just let Mateo cry himself to sleep. The benefits out-way anything else.

by

I Am PRO-quiet house.

IMG_1926One afternoon, while feeling the crowding of loud voices shedding from my ears, noise from the activity of an ordinary day in the classroom, and just as I was halfway down the hallway, heading towards my bedroom to change into my loose-fitting sweats and an oversized hoodie, mentally prepping myself for some quiet time and smut TV,

my son rips open his bedroom door, so forcefully that I could hear the whoosh! of wind, and he states,

“Our house is so boring. It’s so quiet!” He said it as if quietness is a bad thing. I leaned against the linen closet door and as patiently as I could I said,

“Well. If you worked all day in a classroom, with very energetic ten year olds, you too would not think a quiet house was boring. Instead, you would relish the quiet. Dream about quiet. Anticipate quiet. And you would never ever call your house boring.”

“Okay. Yeah. I can see that. From your perspective, anyway.” And he didn’t complain again.

Not until another afternoon. Months later.

“I get it, you work with kids and need downtime from all the activity happening throughout your day. But, man, when I am at my friends, and I mean all the different people’s homes I’ve been in, and spend the night, the parents never, and I mean nev-er, tell us to be quiet. The parents go to bed earlier, like you, and we play games, watch TV, talk. All with the volume pumped up.  And no one says a word. No on tells us to be quiet,” my son rambles on.

“I don’t have an answer for you,” I say, without apology.  “Geez, seriously, I’m not sure why the parents wouldn’t want you guys to quiet down at a certain time, but me, no way, I need my rest. I need quiet. I need my sanity. Seriously.”

I’m trying to wrap my head around the concept of kids having control of the home, but my son doesn’t seem to see it that way.

“I’m just saying, I don’t know anyone, and I mean any-one, that has rules about quieting down,” he added, seemingly just as confused, but on a different level.

“Well, when I was growing up,” I reminisced , “whichever house I was at, I don’t think we even were told to be quiet, we just were. For me, that’s the norm.”

I didn’t say it, but maybe the problem is that today’s parents, while trying to be cool, to fit in with their children, and to be their friend, are making the mistake of also believing that it’s okay for kids to Rule-the-Roost.

A few weeks, maybe months later, my son walks into the house, after a weekend spent with his friends.

“Ah, this is my sanctuary,” he said, without much thought. “I love going to my room, closing myself in.”

Go figure, is what I didn’t say.

by

Big Decision

Yep.

Big.

Decision.

I decided.

Not.

To.

Purchase.

A.

PowerBall ticket.

Because.

I.

Have.

No.

Idea.

How.

I’d handle.

What.

Comes.

With.

Such.

A.

Tremendous amount.

Of.

Money.

And.

More importantly.

Happiness

Is.

Not.

A.

Guarantee.



 


 


 

			

	
	



			
				



	
	


		
					

				 by 			

				
Watch This. Listen, too.

	


		

		
IMG_6824


I seriously love to people-watch. I am enthralled with the social aspect of human nature.


Every avenue of relationships pique my interest. I am oh-so curious how people, all kinds of people, everywhere, all over the place, in various situations react to this, that, and the other.


I like to dig deep into what is happening, simply by watching. Watching. Watching. Watching. And listening. Trying to decipher what is really going on. Deep. Down. Below. The. Surface.


I wonder, quite often, what would I do without people. People all around. People adding a dimension to my life that deepens my feelings toward the world at large.

			

	
	



			
				



	
	


		
					

				 by 			

				
Be True to Yourself

	


		

		
image1.jpg


I get it, I do. In this day and age, in order to be considered cool, you need to be hip with what’s going on around you, and even more so, follow the trends out there. Whatever they are.


Just be careful, though, that the outside appearance you possess doesn’t interfere with your inner true self. The uniqueness you possess. The confidence you behold. The curiosity you cause.


Always maintain who you truly are. An original you. Possessing a demeanor that’s very personal, and uniquely yours. Living your life, finding your dreams, and feeling your happiness.


Recently, I listened to someone talk about how original they are, how no one is like them. Later, I logged onto Instagram™ only to be bombarded by photos depicting the same originality, claiming that no one is like them (either). They all looked the same. So cool. So hip. So like the latest trend.


Well, I can only hope that they each think, and feel, as individuals, true in their own thoughts, pursuing a life as individual as they are.


Yet.


It is what it is. I understand. We all want to fit in. Know what’s what. Participate in life, similarly to everyone else. Feel part of the crowd.


Be careful, though, because that’s where your true self can get lost. Lost in the crowd. You are no longer unique, but rather you’ve become just like everyone.


Unless. You uphold the value of Be True to Yourself. Then. That’s when. You will truly feel fulfilled.

			

	
	



			
				



	
	


		
					

				 by 			

				
tangled

	


		

		
IMG_0571The windows are shut tight, yet, the faint rhythm of music that gently flows from someone’s radio is swaying over the ivy-covered walls, seeping into the crevices of the window’s frame, into our home. Other than that, the outside world seems shut off from inside this small room. Peacefulness is felt, but it’s wrapped tightly around angst.


I am at peace in the quiet confines of my sanctuary, but I worry because my son worries. He’s concerned that Rudy and I are arguing because of something he did. Something that should not have happened. But I assure my son that the anger has nothing to do with him but everything to do with hopelessness.


Rudy is drowning. On some days. Floating on others. His mood is all over the place. Aimed at everyone. And no one. And all the while I am simply trying to figure out how to hold it all together. To maintain a sense of balance so that my son will believe that everything will be OK.


The ceiling fan spins slowly, round and round, tossing puffs of air towards me. Cooling me and my thoughts. But then, suddenly, I hear a door slam from somewhere at the other end of the house. And that’s when my toes curl, my feet stiffen, and my heart seems to skip a beat.


A moment later a child laughs and a puppy barks. Over and over. So much so that my mixed emotions fade and I’m tuned into the wonderment of what’s happening beyond my life.

			

	
	



			
				



	
	


		
					

				 by 			

				
Women Rule the World, but Men are in Control

	


		

		
IMG_2074It’s funny, but if you watch, seriously pay attention to TV shows, movies, and commercials, it’s the women who rule the roost. A roost that parallels real life. Men back off, and accept the knowledge and skill women seem to possess.


If she wants a certain car, there’s no debating. She’s simply in-the-know and her decision is the solid one. If a guy wants to help his girl with the new baby, he better-well embrace her standards and specifications. Otherwise, he’ll find himself being shoved aside, being told he doesn’t know what he’s doing. I mean, because really, she’s the expert, right?


Watch a man’s face, when confronted with a confident, knows-what-she-wants woman. He looks down, unsure of himself, feels like an idiot, and backs off. All the while the woman smiles her winning smile, crowding him out, taking over all the available space, having her way.


Yet. Change locations. Have men step out of the home-front, the personal life, and suddenly they are in control. In general, it’s a location overloaded with testosterone. A place where guys confidently fist-and-shoulder-bump one another. A guy’s hangout, where men become powerhouses. The top-dog. A guy’s guy. The master’s of the universe.


If women maintained their bossy role, the one they possess at home, and threw it out into the world at large, they might just rattle a few chains, turn things upside down, and not only would they rule the world, but they’d rule it with complete control.