My love/hate relationship with my cell phone, Mike

I think I will name my phone Mike. I have dated a lot of Mikes through the years. Some of them I still love as people and friends. Others, not so much, because they are narcissistic sociopaths. My dating history is another blog post. My love compass clearly stopped working every so many months.

But just to clarify, if you happen upong this link because we are friends on facebook and your name is Mike...you are in the "like" category.

But to get back to Mike, my cell phone....

Oh Mike, I love you....but I hate you. I hate you....but I love you.

I was on vacation this past week and I made a concerted effort to not answer the phone. Of course, I did not turn it off. 90% of the time it was within arms reach. I may have picked it up and looked at the number calling....but overall in terms of not answering....I think on a grading scale I probably got a "B". Yayyy ME!

I remember growing up until age 9, there were two phones in the whole house....one in the kitchen and one in my parents room. These were land lines with cords and round dials. And these were not like stretch cords. Like you had 2 feet to move while making a call. 

And then we moved and I became interested in boys. There was still no caller ID, no voice messages, no call waiting. I mean, if a boy was calling, you begged your parents to get off the phone and prayed to the telephone gods that the phone would ring. And when it did, you'd have to stretch that cord as far as it would go and hide on the stairwell to have any measure of privacy. And then there was little brother who could pick up the phone and make weird kissing noises on the line.

At 11, my parents actually put a phone in my room. At 13, I actually got my own phone line for my birthday. AND I even got an answering machine so people could leave messages if I wasn't there. Oh and the fabulous prank messages you could leave without worrying about people knowing who you were. Or the "Love" messages with boys anonymously playing "Hello" by Lionel Ritchie or "Against All Odds" on your answering machine.

*Sigh*....the age of the secret admirer.

So what changed? Well, the conversations became a little less innocent. I got less sleep for staying up until all hours talking to my guy "best friends". Amazing how at 13 you have an array of guy best friends. And by 40, you may have one if you are lucky. But thats another blog post. And THE DRAMA. Three-way phone calls to catch someone saying mean things about you or getting a confession from your boyfriend that he kissed another girl. The long-drawn out breakups. The fighting with mom/dad over losing phone privileges. How that would ruin your life for eternity. Man, these phones brought a lot of new stress to our young lives.

And then came the car phone. I didn't have many friends with these huge mechanical things in their cars but many of our parents did. All of a sudden people were working crazy hours. There was no "leave your work at work" if you were going to a family dinner. Because inevitably, the phone would ring.

And am I crazy but did the divorce rate skyrocket when people could have secret lives in their cars? I think car phones were to the 80s like facebook is to today. I wonder how many marriages might have lasted if it weren't so easy to keep secrets via automobile?

And then came cell phones. I actually didn't break down and get one until I was like 28. And at that point life was still slightly more peaceful because not everyone had a cell phone...so it wasn't ringing off the hook for personal and/or business reasons. It was easy to have lots of left-over minutes.

But it was at that time, that the line between personal time/family time/ business time became blurry. Because, hey, it was kind of fun to be able to call all your friends from everywhere you went whenever they popped into your brain.

And now everyone has a cell. Land lines are becoming extinct. You are never alone. You never have to be alone. We all have a Mike at our side.

The good side...if your child busts his head open...you can reach your partner at the gym. If there is a work emergency...it can be resolved more quickly. If your kids live with your ex-husband half the time, you have a better shot of talking to them everyday. In those moments, I'm like "Thank God for Mike and all his friends".

But a side effect of this, I believe, is that we've all lost patience. There is this constant sense of urgency as well as entitlement. "Well I KNOW you have your phone with you so how dare you not answer it"!!?? And it is hard to leave work behind when you know you could make life a lot easier for colleagues if you just made a phone call. Or 2. Or 10.

And then we have these mini-computers at our fingertips. So we have immediate accesss to our friends, family, the weather, business, celebrity scandals, the definition of arachibutyrophobia, the end of the world. And don't get me started on texting (and I do text....just sayin')

I have gotten to the point where I want to put Mike down but I can't seem to make myself. Sometimes I can feel the anxiety in my stomach as I surf the internet via phone. Weird.

Until this vacation. Where I stopped answering my phone. And I played with my kids in the lake. And kicked butt at laser tag. And took a ghost tour. And looked for sea glass. All without a phone. And much stress dissipated. It was lovely.

So I am on the fence about if the world is a better place with cell phones. As with many of my posts these days....the key is finding the balance.

Darn you Mike.

Camp Piomingo

I am not an outdoorsy gal. I'm sure this comes of no surprise to those who have known me a long time or even a short while. Here is what I appreciate about the outdoors.

The ocean--I like the sound of it while I sit and listen to the waves. I also enjoy grabbing sanddollars with my toes in thigh deep water. Seriously, I have a gift. I always throw them back. Just the thrill of the find.The sound of insects at night. Now don't get me near cicadas or grasshoppers but the sound is incredibly lulling. I like thinking that you could dive into a cloud. I used to think that cloud were heaven. The first time I flew in a plane I remember looking for angels. I also can imagine the life in all living things. Perhaps its my Cherokee indian heritage flowing through my veins but I can kind of relate to Disney's Pocahontas. Wouldn't it be great to have a tree to give you advice?

I am not a fan, however, of dirt or sand in my toes or fingernails. I hate being dirty. I am terrified of caves. Repelling is for people who don't care about living. I don't care for shared showers or mudslides.

And there was my traumatic camp experiences at ages 9, 10, 11 and 12--mud, caves, shower shoes. I will never forget the child who had diarrhea in the river we were crossing. I had fears about swimming in a river for the rest of my life. But when my daughter started begging for camp...I felt a bit thrilled on the inside.

My daughter has been begging for camp for months on end. She doesn't care about bringing a friend. She wants to be outdoors, riding horses, ziplining, camping overnight, cooking things over a fire. This is a girl comfortable in her own skin. She knows what brings her joy and is not afraid to take a chance.

We went to Holiday World the other weekend and she said "mom, I prayed the whole time that I would have the courage to ride every ride and fight my fear". Again, this child is a million years old

When Meaghan was three she looked at me and said "Mom, in this life...don't be afraid, be curious". Somehow we were talking about the Bermuda triangle...but I still tell myself this when I find myself retreating over something in life.

So I am amazed by my little girl. I do not believe I have pushed her to be the things I always wished I could have been. Independent, courageous, finding joy in everything, fearless, confident, and so comfortable in her own skin. I know she is simply herself. But sometimes I look at her and think about how I wish I could have been more like that. As a result, I tell her all the time how much she amazes me.

And she really does.

So while Camp Piomingo was a mix of fun and traumatic experiences...I so look forward to giving my daughter what she begged for for so long. She is nervous and excited. She asked me tonight what to do if the other girls didn't like her. I said "Meag--who doesn't like you? Everyone likes you". With a laugh in her eye she said "robbers and bad people do not like me". I said "well, lets pray you have no mean robbers as cabinmates".

I can't believe I can't speak to her for 5 days. I already mailed her a letter.

So many memories my daughter will be replicating. But better.

I couldn't have asked for a cooler kid. Everything I wish I could have been. And now I get to empower her. Momhood really rocks.

What Earns Me Stripes At 40

So here are the main things tonight thatI think I can say I have learned that I feel worth sharing on my birthday...

1) Be kind to those you care the most about. We seem to take out our frustrations on the ones we are the closest to. Change that. Forget those who do not matter. Love on those who mean something.

2) Drink water. It just works.

3) Red Lipstick can change an entire perspective. Treat her with caution.

4) Life is unfair. Someone will have it worse than you. You will lose people you love starting now and they were not prepared. Practice gratitiude.

5) Be impeccable with your word. This one sort of sucks. It means you have to be honest when you could honestly just make something up and no one would know. Better to be honest. You smell better.

I really thought I would be so empowered and enlightened at 40. I feel scared.  Do I need to live differently? Adjust my priorities? I like how the earth twirls and that the sun and moon change shapes and sizes depending on my perspective.

I guess I will figure it out. Happy Birthday Me. To the 5 year-old Beth, the 16-year old Beth, the 32-year old Beth and now. Happy Happy.

I love life. I really do.

In Joshua's Words

"Mom, we like you.

 You cook us breakfast. You make us do chores. You tuck us in at night. That makes a good mom".


Then carefully pulling my eyeglasses off my face he says..


"here...take off your glasses. You look better without them".

bedtime, toothpaste and candles

I miss bedtime when I could light a candle and pull out a book of poetry to read until I was too tired to focus. I would go to bed inspired and ready to work on my creative side the next day. In that quiet space I would somehow feel like I would be a better person in the morning.

As I write right now, I hear my son opening and shutting his door for attention. I hear him saying "but mommy I want mommy/joshy time". And I just finished tucking my daughter into bed crying because I spent so much time putting josh down (almost tying him to the bed) that I missed out on mother/daughter ghost hunters night. Don't judge please. Whether it be the fact my daughter and I are both intrigued by the idea of ghosthunting or that both my children are vying for my attention.

When my divorce happened I was forced to begin again. I had to recreate myself financially. And the beautiful luck is that I have an array of amazing clients/friends who are entrusting me with some of the biggest financial and life choices they can make...buying and/or selling their homes. And i really love every moment of it. I get to dream about their lives with them and help make it happen. What an honor.

And I also have to pay the mortgage and health insurance and school tuition. And clothes for children that fit for about 10 seconds it seems.

But I am missing out on the dreams of my kids. And I know that is most important. Those women who fought for equality...well, yeah I'm glad they did it. But we can't have it all. That old commercial..."I can bring home the bacon, fry it up in a pan..."...well, I'd like to take that pan to that woman in pearls and knock her fantasy self head-first into the bacon grease. Cold of course.

I can hear my son singing in his room " mommy...my teeth are all shiny...do you want to come see". It is 10:46 pm. "He is saying "mommy I need to tell you something...I want you to see my teeth and smell them, please say yes".

I just told him if he would climb into bed...I would come see him in 5 minutes. Enough time to take a little time to write, to journal, to spill my guts that I am doing the best I can but somehow it is not good enough.

So here is my plan for the summer.

I will not work on Friday afternoons. I am putting an "adventure" into an envelope and thats what I am doing with my kids. I might even turn off my phone as frightening as it might be. But somehow I am hoping that my clients appreciate that and the value of putting children first.

On the Saturdays I have the children I will devote the majority of my time to playing with them. I may have to work some in the mornings but I am dedicating my time to them...even if it costs me some business. Maybe I'll get a partner.

So there I am. Hold me accountable friends. I can't have everything or do everything but I think I can do better.  My children really are my current-day candles and my poetry and I need inspiration in their laughter and happiness. I know I will feel like a better person for the next day.

And now I am off to smell bubblegum fresh teeth.

Just some questions

I am having trouble formulating one coherent thought, essay, inspiration today. And I think it is just because I have so much on my mind. In fact, I am having trouble getting out of my head these days during my "off-time" from work. So I thought if I just posted all the random questions and thoughts spinning around...then I could breathe and get a massage and a margarita. This better work.

1) So what happens after we die? Does everyone have the same experience? Are there really ghosts? Do those free "ghost hunting" apps on the i-phone work? And should I be freaked out that mine said "blood, body, I"?

2) I went to this dinner where a stylist was speaking--offering advice on when your clothes have reached their "expiration date". I have realized that using her guidelines....3/4s of my closet has reached its "expiration date". I was wondering if I were to really purge these clothes...do you think she'd let me borrow her credit card? Because in following her advice I would be walking around nearly naked and that might be bad publicity for a stylist. Just sayin.

3) If I take 15 minutes a day....would I be capable of filing all of my paperwork in a week's time? I think not.

4) Some days I listen to my daughter and I think that I have given birth to a smarter and more dramatic version of myself. I owe my parents a case of Opus One. Actually the whole winery.

5) When will "no" just mean "no"? Will someday the "no" just kick-in as meaningful? Will the "no" command respect? Will consistency make "no" work? Did Bill Gates or Oprah Winfrey accept "no" as children? I tell myself "no" and this is the only thing that gives me hope for the future of all of us.

6) Is it time to accept that I won't have another child? To embrace that next stage of my life? That is hard on many days for some reason.

7) Is the world coming to an end? Do I need to rethink my exit strategy?

8) If my coffee pot says I am drinking 6 cups of coffee, but it only fills up 2 1/2 mugs....doesn't that mean I am only drinking 2 full cups of coffee?

9) Who is my authentic self...is she who I think she is, I am....whatever?

I'm going to just rebel and leave the questions at 9. That kind of encapsulates how I'm feeling...like if I could figure out one more thing--neatly reach a #10....the rest of it would be very clear. You'd think reaching answers are hard....reaching the question is sometimes the toughest task of all.

What I'm thinking about today...

So I happened upon this Youtube Video by Alye Pollack

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=37_ncv79fLA

This pretty little girl...clearly smart, creative, sensitive....bullied at school. Good for her for having the strength to speak her truth...out loud, in color, and underlined.

I can't say I was ever bullied. Teased...yes. Not sure when the line crosses into bullying. I was an easy target. I struggle to recognize sarcasm. People who have a really dry sense of humor intimidate me. I never know what is supposed to funny. I've learned to recognize certain facial cues...twinkling eyes, half-smiles, but without that....I'm pretty much at a loss. It takes me a few moments to process a joke. I tend to understand it about 30 seconds after the rest of the room. I haven't figured out if I am too literal or too abstract. This pretty much painted a red circle on my forehead from the time kids were old enough to figure this out about me.

I was called stuck up. Told I walked weird. That my breath smelled. That I was ditsy. Tree trunks for calves, cankles, etc. I still struggle to show my ankles in public. I didn't know I looked any different until a boy at church pointed it out.

Sometimes I'm watching tv and I feel disdain for a woman I don't find attractive. Now, where does that come from?  I remember watching "Will and Grace" and the Grace character came back to the show after giving birth and I felt resentful because she had gained weight.

I know I just saw myself in these women. Not pretty enough. Not thin enough. Not enough. They were mirrors. Psych 101. All the voices become echoes that resonate in our heads. And we project those echoes onto our own hall of mirrors. And they just bounce back.

I try really hard to whisper to my children waking and sleeping that they are special and beautiful and smart in hopes that my echo is simply louder.

On a lighter note....I woke up last night having some sort of weird pre-menopausal hot flash. OK--I'm not hot flashing yet but regardless I woke up drenched in sweat. So all morning I kept walking into my room thinking...my God...I can't believe my sweat is still smelling up the room.

And then I found the cat poo. All over the clean laundry. Not sure how this ties into bullying. But somehow it seems relevant.