I've discovered that no matter how hard I try, there is really no way of putting a plastic bubble around my kids to force them to stop growing up. Only yesterday, I was in the hospital with my fist child, thinking he was all there was in life.
Except that wasn't really yesterday, it was fifteen and a half years ago. Yeah, you got it. Last Monday I took him to the Driver's License Division to get his driving permit. I now have to teach him how to drive. (Can you say panic?)
And that's not all. The very next day, I sat with my third child (eleven-year-old, girl, in the fifth grade) while we listened to the maturation presentation at school. She's growing up too!
Now, about this presentation. She was so nervous. And admittedly, she hoped I would forget and not show up. But I didn't. It's a good thing, too. Unfortunately, the presentation was so very basic, there was only a tiny amount of information she didn't already know. I found myself way disappointed. There was nothing about how boys change as they grow up. Nothing about sex (sorry, but they need to at least know how babies are made!) and nothing about eating disorders, or any of the things I learned about when I was that age.
Lucky for me, I have no problem talking to my children about these things. They're natural, and I feel like it's important for them to know. Still, there are a whole lot of adults who refuse to discuss what they perceive as embarrassing or delicate subjects with their children. I suppose they expect the kids to learn at school. But people, school lessons really don't teach them anything about it.
On the other hand, they will help teach your kids how to drive--drivers education is required in the sophomore year. And yes, my son will have to practice driving in my car (a frightening idea, let me assure you) but I can go with him knowing that if he doesn't listen to me, there is another person of influence helping teach him the basics. And knowing how often kids believe what their parents are telling them, that's good to know.
Eventually, every kid will know how to drive a car. Even if they don't own one for several years. But not every kid will know and understand what's happening with their body, and why they should make good choices (on every level) to keep them healthy and happy. Even though they all have bodies.
Before you start flogging me, let me just state that I don't blame the school system for this massive oversight. Some things are personal, and private, and should be taught with a level of love. It's our job as parents to take care of those things.
I just find it ironic, that's all. It reminds me why--when some of my girlfriends had questions their parents wouldn't answer--my mother sat us down in our kitchen for a question and answer session. I was mortified at the time. But I also knew it was needed.
And now, even though it makes me feel old, it's my turn. Heaven help me!
Thursday, April 30, 2009
Sunday, April 26, 2009
Amazing People, Amazing Conference
By Nichole Giles
I spent the weekend at the LDStorymakers writer’s conference, and boy, what an inspiration. Every year, this is the conference to which I most look forward all year. The one where I know so many people and where I have always been made to feel like a part of things.
Those who know me will understand when I say I’ve come a long way since my first conference in 2005. That year, it took every ounce of courage I had in me to even admit I wanted to write. And I didn’t say much to anyone, didn’t make loud comments, and was not outgoing in striking up a conversation. I was at a low point in my life, and trying to claw my way back up.
This year, I stood up on stage in front of the entire audience and participated in a skit to encourage new attendees to join our online writer’s group. And there’s more. During the skit, I actually took the microphone and sang. Solo for two whole lines until the rest of the participants joined in. Something I haven’t done since high school (ahem, many years ago.)
In case you’re wondering what has gotten into me, I’ll tell you. Confidence. Self respect. Self-assurance. Self value.
And while you may be thinking that’s something I should have had before I started writing, I didn’t. Or at least hadn’t for years. Very often, when women get married young, dedicating themselves to having children and being good wives, they are in danger of losing their self identity, and in the process all of the things I mentioned above. That was me. And I could go into a long story here about myself and how I happened to go in search of something that was mine—something I never knew I always wanted—but that would make for a really long—and probably boring—blog.
Suffice it to say, when I knew—really truly knew—I wanted to write, I spent a lot of time praying that God would point me in the right direction. That He would help me know how to go about doing what I wanted so badly to do. And then I happened on a flier for the LDStorymakers conference—which just so happened to be a week away. I called the number and talked to Tristi Pinkston—who is now a very dear friend—and signed up. She told me I could pay at the door, and the next week, I showed up with no idea what to expect.
And what I got there was priceless. Invaluable. More than I could ever pay for in this lifetime or the next. The killer is, I get the same treatment, lessons, and more, every year I attend. These people are more than teachers and instructors. They truly care about every person at the conference, and they want to see us succeed. And because of them, so many of us will.
I spent the weekend at the LDStorymakers writer’s conference, and boy, what an inspiration. Every year, this is the conference to which I most look forward all year. The one where I know so many people and where I have always been made to feel like a part of things.
Those who know me will understand when I say I’ve come a long way since my first conference in 2005. That year, it took every ounce of courage I had in me to even admit I wanted to write. And I didn’t say much to anyone, didn’t make loud comments, and was not outgoing in striking up a conversation. I was at a low point in my life, and trying to claw my way back up.
This year, I stood up on stage in front of the entire audience and participated in a skit to encourage new attendees to join our online writer’s group. And there’s more. During the skit, I actually took the microphone and sang. Solo for two whole lines until the rest of the participants joined in. Something I haven’t done since high school (ahem, many years ago.)
In case you’re wondering what has gotten into me, I’ll tell you. Confidence. Self respect. Self-assurance. Self value.
And while you may be thinking that’s something I should have had before I started writing, I didn’t. Or at least hadn’t for years. Very often, when women get married young, dedicating themselves to having children and being good wives, they are in danger of losing their self identity, and in the process all of the things I mentioned above. That was me. And I could go into a long story here about myself and how I happened to go in search of something that was mine—something I never knew I always wanted—but that would make for a really long—and probably boring—blog.
Suffice it to say, when I knew—really truly knew—I wanted to write, I spent a lot of time praying that God would point me in the right direction. That He would help me know how to go about doing what I wanted so badly to do. And then I happened on a flier for the LDStorymakers conference—which just so happened to be a week away. I called the number and talked to Tristi Pinkston—who is now a very dear friend—and signed up. She told me I could pay at the door, and the next week, I showed up with no idea what to expect.
And what I got there was priceless. Invaluable. More than I could ever pay for in this lifetime or the next. The killer is, I get the same treatment, lessons, and more, every year I attend. These people are more than teachers and instructors. They truly care about every person at the conference, and they want to see us succeed. And because of them, so many of us will.
(Picture of a small portion of our writer's group.)
This year’s conference was truly amazing. And to be honest, I spent all of Sunday being sad that it was over. But that’s not completely true. It isn’t over. Not in the least. I have a whole year—and an amazing online group put together from attendees—to look forward to next year’s conference. In the meantime, I aim to show my utter and complete gratitude to the Storymakers by making the most of what I’ve been taught.
How? By getting published.
Duh!
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Buckets of Friends
By Nichole Giles
Sixteen years ago, at eighteen years old, I got married. Four children, a mortgage, two dogs, and an entire lifetime later, I sometimes wonder how I survive. My husband is an amazing man and my best friend, but there are certain roles in life a man can’t fill, no matter how hard he tries.
Women are usually the glue that holds everything together, the very rock and foundation upon which our families are built. Whatever other project we take on, whatever job we work, whatever career path we choose—including that of household CEO—we are first and foremost wife, mother, sister, daughter, and the center of our homes.
That mountain of responsibility may be what we do, but it is not who we are. Or, at least, it shouldn’t be. After all my years of marriage, I’ve come to understand the importance of friendship, and the women who’ve filled that role for me. They’ve been my support, my iron tower, my light in a dark room, and my source of laughter through hard times. They will ever continue to be my sanity.
Every one of my friends has a different story and a different personality. I love them for our similarities as well as our differences, and because of that, I need them individually and as groups. They fall somewhere between a guiding light and a survival drug.
When I stop to think about it, I realize how many buckets I have dipped into this well of support, and how important each bucket is in the shaping of my life, and my individual self.
For instance, I’m part of a group of six women who—for 12 years and counting—get together once a month for a girl’s night out. It started out as a female support group that has grown, and shrunk, and then evolved from acquaintances that enjoyed having a night away from our families, into a group of friends that share unbreakable bonds, each one contributing to the personal survival of the others.
For example, two years ago I got a heart-wrenching phone call. Jen was on the other end of the line, her voice fraught with grief. Raylene’s husband, Jeff—who was serving in Afghanistan—had been injured in a suicide bombing attack. His hands and face severely burned by the blast, Jeff was being flown by medical helicopter to a hospital in Germany.
My heart sank. “Is he alive?” I croaked through the lump in my throat.
“For now,” Jen said.
She called the rest of our group, and as we were able, the five of us made our way to Raylene’s house, offering what little support we could while she waited for more information. Our group has grown to truly value each other’s friendship as an integral part of our lives.
Another good example is Tova, who I meet once a month for lunch, and who is such a unique individual that she inspires me to stretch my arms and reach higher for the power within myself. She reminds me regularly that it’s okay to be an observer, an artist, and a powerful, fabulous woman. I don’t know what I’d do without her, either.
I’d think bonds like this were unusual, except for movies like, “The Women” and “Steel Magnolias” and the long list of books that I won’t even attempt to list. Still, movies and books aren’t always based on reality, so I decided to ask a few other women about the roles their girlfriends play in the movies that are their lives.
“I would be insane without my girlfriends!” says Kellie. “My children would be mistreated and I’d be divorced for the second time without the women in my life. We need each other for support. I have just a few friends but they are my very close friends and I love them. We talk about everything. We move each other to different houses. We go to each other’s birthday parties. Our children are friends with each other. When life goes south, I know I can talk to any of my friends and they will listen, try and help, and give me that pat on the back that tells me, ‘you will get through this.’”
“I reach out to other woman for several reasons,” adds Lori. “Women have compassion and it's easy to confide in other women, especially those with whom we have built a level of trust. They’re skilled at listening and able to offer suggestions for things that have worked for them or to advise on the things that haven’t.”
“Women have a unique way of making other women feel valued,” Lori continues. “Even if we’re struggling or have failed at something. We have a common thread as we’re typically going through the same issues and challenges in our lives.”
Raylene had a similar response. “It’s essential to seek the listening ear of a girlfriend, because women get it. They can relate because they have the same emotions. We all want to save our relationships, our children and the world. No one gets that but other women.”
Besides being there as support during times of challenge and trial, women are able to fill a variety of roles for each other, roles that the men in their lives cannot fill.
“Other moms know the responsibility that only we mothers have,” says Kellie. “We know when one of us needs a night out, and then we make plans and do our best to keep them. When one of us gets pregnant, we’re there with gifts and congratulations (or condolences,) and when she becomes an ornery pregnant friend, we roll our eyes and remember that we’ve been there.”
Raylene points out, “The deep relationships we form with one another get us through the best and the worst times. Women are much more excited, sympathetic, empathetic and understanding when it comes to the birth of a baby, graduations, death of a loved one, an illness, divorce, complicated relationships and everything else you can think of. Most of the time a deep conversation with a girlfriend results in a better relationship with that person.”
Raylene continues, smiling wickedly, “Having the same conversation with a man usually does little to improve that relationship. Not because men love us less, but because men communicate differently than women.”
We all agree that time spent with our friends is unlike time with spouses and children. These are the moments when we don’t have to worry about being the mother or the wife, and are instead able to be individual women with our own identities. Our other relationships are stronger because they reflect this valuable piece of ourselves we might not otherwise have.
“I feel like all week long my battery is worn down,” admits Lori. “I’m recharged when I’m able to spend time with friends. I know they love me, I know they care about me, and I know they will laugh when I laugh and cry when I cry. I know that unfailingly I can go, and my friends will accept me no matter what. Sometimes that’s through a simple piece of advice or sometimes it's the hug at the end of the visit or the warm welcome when I first walk in. Regardless of what that ‘thing’ is, it is offered up when you need it the most because women just know.”
“It takes a strong woman to be friends with me,” stresses Kellie. “I get a little pushy and mouthy, but I cherish my friends. Anyone who doesn’t have close girlfriends is missing out on one of the greatest blessings in life.”
Not long after Jeff was injured, the girls and I convened at a nearby TGI Fridays to celebrate Raylene’s twentieth wedding anniversary. Obviously, Jeff couldn’t be there, and Raylene gave us the highest honor of friendship in sharing her anniversary with us. That night we skipped dinner and went straight from appetizers to desert. It’s one of the little things that let us pretend we’re young again, and that life is only as complicated as eating dinner before desert.
“Girlfriends can share in your burdens and make you laugh,” says Raylene. “A night out with them is always the perfect medicine to get you up and going again, giving you courage and also some relief in knowing that they will be there when you need them (again) and you will be there when they need you.”
Lori’s final comment sums it up best. “I’m a better person for my friends. They allow me to let go, let loose, and to be me. In this crazy world of trying to be the best at everything, it's great to have a place to go to where it's okay just to be Lori and not worry about trying to be super-mom, super-spouse, super-employee, super-everything.”
I agree, women save the day. Because of my girlfriends I’m able to survive the conundrum of life, and when my daughters are old enough, I plan to pass this knowledge to them. As they grow up and become women, I have no doubt that they too, will come to understand the power of friendship.
Sixteen years ago, at eighteen years old, I got married. Four children, a mortgage, two dogs, and an entire lifetime later, I sometimes wonder how I survive. My husband is an amazing man and my best friend, but there are certain roles in life a man can’t fill, no matter how hard he tries.
Women are usually the glue that holds everything together, the very rock and foundation upon which our families are built. Whatever other project we take on, whatever job we work, whatever career path we choose—including that of household CEO—we are first and foremost wife, mother, sister, daughter, and the center of our homes.
That mountain of responsibility may be what we do, but it is not who we are. Or, at least, it shouldn’t be. After all my years of marriage, I’ve come to understand the importance of friendship, and the women who’ve filled that role for me. They’ve been my support, my iron tower, my light in a dark room, and my source of laughter through hard times. They will ever continue to be my sanity.
Every one of my friends has a different story and a different personality. I love them for our similarities as well as our differences, and because of that, I need them individually and as groups. They fall somewhere between a guiding light and a survival drug.
When I stop to think about it, I realize how many buckets I have dipped into this well of support, and how important each bucket is in the shaping of my life, and my individual self.
For instance, I’m part of a group of six women who—for 12 years and counting—get together once a month for a girl’s night out. It started out as a female support group that has grown, and shrunk, and then evolved from acquaintances that enjoyed having a night away from our families, into a group of friends that share unbreakable bonds, each one contributing to the personal survival of the others.
For example, two years ago I got a heart-wrenching phone call. Jen was on the other end of the line, her voice fraught with grief. Raylene’s husband, Jeff—who was serving in Afghanistan—had been injured in a suicide bombing attack. His hands and face severely burned by the blast, Jeff was being flown by medical helicopter to a hospital in Germany.My heart sank. “Is he alive?” I croaked through the lump in my throat.
“For now,” Jen said.
She called the rest of our group, and as we were able, the five of us made our way to Raylene’s house, offering what little support we could while she waited for more information. Our group has grown to truly value each other’s friendship as an integral part of our lives.
Another good example is Tova, who I meet once a month for lunch, and who is such a unique individual that she inspires me to stretch my arms and reach higher for the power within myself. She reminds me regularly that it’s okay to be an observer, an artist, and a powerful, fabulous woman. I don’t know what I’d do without her, either.
I’d think bonds like this were unusual, except for movies like, “The Women” and “Steel Magnolias” and the long list of books that I won’t even attempt to list. Still, movies and books aren’t always based on reality, so I decided to ask a few other women about the roles their girlfriends play in the movies that are their lives.
“I would be insane without my girlfriends!” says Kellie. “My children would be mistreated and I’d be divorced for the second time without the women in my life. We need each other for support. I have just a few friends but they are my very close friends and I love them. We talk about everything. We move each other to different houses. We go to each other’s birthday parties. Our children are friends with each other. When life goes south, I know I can talk to any of my friends and they will listen, try and help, and give me that pat on the back that tells me, ‘you will get through this.’”
“I reach out to other woman for several reasons,” adds Lori. “Women have compassion and it's easy to confide in other women, especially those with whom we have built a level of trust. They’re skilled at listening and able to offer suggestions for things that have worked for them or to advise on the things that haven’t.”
“Women have a unique way of making other women feel valued,” Lori continues. “Even if we’re struggling or have failed at something. We have a common thread as we’re typically going through the same issues and challenges in our lives.”
Raylene had a similar response. “It’s essential to seek the listening ear of a girlfriend, because women get it. They can relate because they have the same emotions. We all want to save our relationships, our children and the world. No one gets that but other women.”
Besides being there as support during times of challenge and trial, women are able to fill a variety of roles for each other, roles that the men in their lives cannot fill.
“Other moms know the responsibility that only we mothers have,” says Kellie. “We know when one of us needs a night out, and then we make plans and do our best to keep them. When one of us gets pregnant, we’re there with gifts and congratulations (or condolences,) and when she becomes an ornery pregnant friend, we roll our eyes and remember that we’ve been there.”
Raylene points out, “The deep relationships we form with one another get us through the best and the worst times. Women are much more excited, sympathetic, empathetic and understanding when it comes to the birth of a baby, graduations, death of a loved one, an illness, divorce, complicated relationships and everything else you can think of. Most of the time a deep conversation with a girlfriend results in a better relationship with that person.”
Raylene continues, smiling wickedly, “Having the same conversation with a man usually does little to improve that relationship. Not because men love us less, but because men communicate differently than women.”
We all agree that time spent with our friends is unlike time with spouses and children. These are the moments when we don’t have to worry about being the mother or the wife, and are instead able to be individual women with our own identities. Our other relationships are stronger because they reflect this valuable piece of ourselves we might not otherwise have.
“I feel like all week long my battery is worn down,” admits Lori. “I’m recharged when I’m able to spend time with friends. I know they love me, I know they care about me, and I know they will laugh when I laugh and cry when I cry. I know that unfailingly I can go, and my friends will accept me no matter what. Sometimes that’s through a simple piece of advice or sometimes it's the hug at the end of the visit or the warm welcome when I first walk in. Regardless of what that ‘thing’ is, it is offered up when you need it the most because women just know.”
“It takes a strong woman to be friends with me,” stresses Kellie. “I get a little pushy and mouthy, but I cherish my friends. Anyone who doesn’t have close girlfriends is missing out on one of the greatest blessings in life.”
Not long after Jeff was injured, the girls and I convened at a nearby TGI Fridays to celebrate Raylene’s twentieth wedding anniversary. Obviously, Jeff couldn’t be there, and Raylene gave us the highest honor of friendship in sharing her anniversary with us. That night we skipped dinner and went straight from appetizers to desert. It’s one of the little things that let us pretend we’re young again, and that life is only as complicated as eating dinner before desert.
“Girlfriends can share in your burdens and make you laugh,” says Raylene. “A night out with them is always the perfect medicine to get you up and going again, giving you courage and also some relief in knowing that they will be there when you need them (again) and you will be there when they need you.”
Lori’s final comment sums it up best. “I’m a better person for my friends. They allow me to let go, let loose, and to be me. In this crazy world of trying to be the best at everything, it's great to have a place to go to where it's okay just to be Lori and not worry about trying to be super-mom, super-spouse, super-employee, super-everything.”
I agree, women save the day. Because of my girlfriends I’m able to survive the conundrum of life, and when my daughters are old enough, I plan to pass this knowledge to them. As they grow up and become women, I have no doubt that they too, will come to understand the power of friendship.
Saturday, April 11, 2009
Not-So-Classic Metaphors
A friend sent me this via email, and I thought it was too cute not to share.
1. Her face was a perfect oval, like a circle that had its two sides gently compressed by a Thigh Master.
2. His thoughts tumbled in his head, making and breaking alliances like underpants in a dryer without Cling Free.
3. He spoke with the wisdom that can only come from experience, like a guy who went blind because he looked at a solar eclipse without one of those boxes with a pinhole in it and now goes around the country speaking at high schools about the dangers of looking at a solar eclipse without one of those boxes with a pinhole in it.
4. She grew on him like she was a colony of E. Coli, and he was room-temperature Canadian beef.
5. She had a deep, throaty, genuine laugh, like that sound a dog makes just before it throws up.
6. He was as tall as a six-foot, three-inch tree.
7. The revelation that his marriage of thirty years had disintegrated because of his wife’s infidelity came as a rude shock, like a surcharge at a formerly surcharge-free ATM machine.
8. The little boat gently drifted across the pond exactly the way a bowling ball wouldn’t.
9. McBride fell twelve stories, hitting the pavement like a Hefty bag filled with vegetable soup.
10. From the attic came an unearthly howl. The whole scene had an eerie, surreal quality, like when you’re on vacation in another city and Jeopardy comes on at 7:00 p.m. instead of 7:30.
11. Her hair glistened in the rain like a nose hair after a sneeze.
12. The hailstones leaped from the pavement, just like maggots when you fry them in hot grease.
13. John and Mary had never met. They were like two hummingbirds who had also never met.
14. He fell for her like his heart was a mob informant, and she was the East River.
15. Even in his last years, Granddad had a mind like a steel trap, only one that had been left out so long, it had rusted shut.
16. The plan was simple, like my brother-in-law Phil. But unlike Phil, this plan just might work.
17. The young fighter had a hungry look, the kind you get from not eating for a while.
18. He was as lame as a duck. Not the metaphorical lame duck, either, but a real duck that was actually lame, maybe from stepping on a land mine or something.
19. The ballerina rose gracefully en Pointe and extended one slender leg behind her, like a dog at a fire hydrant.
1. Her face was a perfect oval, like a circle that had its two sides gently compressed by a Thigh Master.
2. His thoughts tumbled in his head, making and breaking alliances like underpants in a dryer without Cling Free.
3. He spoke with the wisdom that can only come from experience, like a guy who went blind because he looked at a solar eclipse without one of those boxes with a pinhole in it and now goes around the country speaking at high schools about the dangers of looking at a solar eclipse without one of those boxes with a pinhole in it.
4. She grew on him like she was a colony of E. Coli, and he was room-temperature Canadian beef.
5. She had a deep, throaty, genuine laugh, like that sound a dog makes just before it throws up.
6. He was as tall as a six-foot, three-inch tree.
7. The revelation that his marriage of thirty years had disintegrated because of his wife’s infidelity came as a rude shock, like a surcharge at a formerly surcharge-free ATM machine.
8. The little boat gently drifted across the pond exactly the way a bowling ball wouldn’t.
9. McBride fell twelve stories, hitting the pavement like a Hefty bag filled with vegetable soup.
10. From the attic came an unearthly howl. The whole scene had an eerie, surreal quality, like when you’re on vacation in another city and Jeopardy comes on at 7:00 p.m. instead of 7:30.
11. Her hair glistened in the rain like a nose hair after a sneeze.
12. The hailstones leaped from the pavement, just like maggots when you fry them in hot grease.
13. John and Mary had never met. They were like two hummingbirds who had also never met.
14. He fell for her like his heart was a mob informant, and she was the East River.
15. Even in his last years, Granddad had a mind like a steel trap, only one that had been left out so long, it had rusted shut.
16. The plan was simple, like my brother-in-law Phil. But unlike Phil, this plan just might work.
17. The young fighter had a hungry look, the kind you get from not eating for a while.
18. He was as lame as a duck. Not the metaphorical lame duck, either, but a real duck that was actually lame, maybe from stepping on a land mine or something.
19. The ballerina rose gracefully en Pointe and extended one slender leg behind her, like a dog at a fire hydrant.
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
Interesting Day at Grand Central Station
A friend of mine sent this link in an email, and I got quite a kick out of it. Of course, there's no way to know for sure, but it appears to me that these people did this purely for fun and enjoyment. To entertain themselves and those around them.
The question most present in my mind as I watched this was that the idea had to have come from one person, who then coordinated the whole thing. It made me wonder how many people my ideas will affect. It's like dropping a pebble in a pond and watching the ripples turn to waves.
Enjoy!
The question most present in my mind as I watched this was that the idea had to have come from one person, who then coordinated the whole thing. It made me wonder how many people my ideas will affect. It's like dropping a pebble in a pond and watching the ripples turn to waves.
Enjoy!
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