There are so many distractions around us today that most of us are suffering from self-imposed Attention Deficit Disorder (ADD). We have email, voice mail, texts, and cell phones constantly on. Add that to television, computers, and radios and there is no place we can simply tune into each other, rather than to an electronic device.
I just got back from an unbelievable family vacation with Carnival Cruise Lines, which took us to Grand Cayman, Belize, Honduras, and Mexico. It was a solid week of no cell phones, no computers and nearly no television. Hunter and Skye tuned into Cartoon Network occasionally, but it was never more than 30 minutes a day. Being "off the grid" was absolute bliss. We got to enjoy each other and also had the added bonus of spending the week with Donna's parents and brother, Terry.
The opportunity to enjoy real conversations without distractions was a blessing. I got to enjoy soaking in a hot tub with my little girl, sliding down a water slide with Hunter, interacting with bottle nose dolphins in Mexico, zip-lining through the rain forest in Belize, and meeting new people from around the world, one of whom was a remarkable woman who served us dinner each evening. Before the cruise was finished, she felt like family. Hunter understandably developed a crush very quickly. Zuzana was absolutely stunning. Her inner beauty was just as striking, which made her glow even more radiantly. She was from Slovakia. The first evening, she assumed that Terry was my husband.
The moment was only a bit uncomfortable. Although Dad has come very far along in his acceptance of our family, his culture and upbringing still make it an awkward conversation. I answered "No, he's my brother-in-law." Then, I glanced at Donna to take the lead. She broke the ice by saying we were the couple. Zuzana was delighted and our ability to comfortably be who we were was firmly established. Dad was beaming as much from relief as from pride and we moved along to decide whether we would have the salmon or the prime rib.
Our family has an interesting dynamic. Hunter, Skye and I have fair complexions and Donna, her brother and her parents all are lovely different shades of brown. So, it's understandable, especially when onlookers hear Skye call her uncle, Poppa, that people assume I'm Terry's wife. For me, it simply reinforces how intriguing people's stories are and how important it is never to assume anything for face value.
So now as I sit at my desk, back on the grid, the Carnival Valor will always be in my heart. I have a new, warm and sunny Happy Place to which I can retreat when the noise of the grid gets to be too much. I highly recommend that people unplug from the grid regularly to experience our humanity first hand, versus through electronic mediums. You'll be so glad you did.
Friday, April 29, 2011
Friday, April 15, 2011
"Do as I Say, Not as I Do."
Occasionally, I'll step outside of myself just far enough to see my behavior from my children's perspective. And sometimes I don't like what I see.
As we rush to get out the door on certain mornings and Skye's maniacal focus on how her socks should fold over one another "just so" takes precious time away from our ability to get Hunter to school on time, I loose it! I'm one wire hanger away from re-enacting Mommy Dearest. Suddenly, I see myself screaming at her to move it, and I'm ashamed at how my behavior makes her and her brother Hunter feel. They suddenly cower in fear. Skye's face clouds over as she bursts into tears and Hunter snaps to attention like a little soldier, trying to compensate for his sister's transgressions.
Thank God those moments rarely happen, but when they do, I feel like I undo all the good work and trust that I've established to that point. I know that's unreasonable, and that even the best parent looses her cool, but I hate it when it happens to me. What makes me even more ashamed, is listening to myself scold Skye for talking to her brother so rudely, when I know she merely mirrors me in my less than stellar parenting moments.
I'm fascinated at how we take more time and grant more patience with perfect strangers or work colleagues than we do our own loved ones, especially our children. I would never think about coming unraveled in a professional setting. Despite my wildest fantasies of riding herd over unreasonable sellers and out of touch executives, I keep myself in check and put on a good game face. I suppose the consequences for behaving badly at work are more immediate than those for behaving badly at home.
My new goal starting right now will be to simply walk away before my temper erupts. As I do already, I will apologize to my children for each outburst and explain how my behavior was unacceptable. I know I won't be perfect, but at least, I will be more aware of the anger. So, when I feel that rage crawl up my spine and raise my hackles, I will stop it in its tracks and learn more constructive ways of dealing with my frustrations. Because the long term effects of my bad behavior on my family are far more destructive than lost wages. My family's love and admiration is priceless.
I really do understand how disconcerting it can be to have someone "Talk the talk, but not walk the walk." I don't want to be a source of that frustration for my children. So, I will stop demonstrating the old adage, "Do as I say, not as I do" and start showing my children that they deserve to be treated with at least the same respect than that I give strangers or professional associates.
As we rush to get out the door on certain mornings and Skye's maniacal focus on how her socks should fold over one another "just so" takes precious time away from our ability to get Hunter to school on time, I loose it! I'm one wire hanger away from re-enacting Mommy Dearest. Suddenly, I see myself screaming at her to move it, and I'm ashamed at how my behavior makes her and her brother Hunter feel. They suddenly cower in fear. Skye's face clouds over as she bursts into tears and Hunter snaps to attention like a little soldier, trying to compensate for his sister's transgressions.
Thank God those moments rarely happen, but when they do, I feel like I undo all the good work and trust that I've established to that point. I know that's unreasonable, and that even the best parent looses her cool, but I hate it when it happens to me. What makes me even more ashamed, is listening to myself scold Skye for talking to her brother so rudely, when I know she merely mirrors me in my less than stellar parenting moments.
I'm fascinated at how we take more time and grant more patience with perfect strangers or work colleagues than we do our own loved ones, especially our children. I would never think about coming unraveled in a professional setting. Despite my wildest fantasies of riding herd over unreasonable sellers and out of touch executives, I keep myself in check and put on a good game face. I suppose the consequences for behaving badly at work are more immediate than those for behaving badly at home.
My new goal starting right now will be to simply walk away before my temper erupts. As I do already, I will apologize to my children for each outburst and explain how my behavior was unacceptable. I know I won't be perfect, but at least, I will be more aware of the anger. So, when I feel that rage crawl up my spine and raise my hackles, I will stop it in its tracks and learn more constructive ways of dealing with my frustrations. Because the long term effects of my bad behavior on my family are far more destructive than lost wages. My family's love and admiration is priceless.
I really do understand how disconcerting it can be to have someone "Talk the talk, but not walk the walk." I don't want to be a source of that frustration for my children. So, I will stop demonstrating the old adage, "Do as I say, not as I do" and start showing my children that they deserve to be treated with at least the same respect than that I give strangers or professional associates.
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
"They Should be Just as Miserable as the Rest of Us."
Dolly Parton and Melissa Etheridge were interviewed by Oprah years ago after teaming on an album and Dolly stated her position on legalizing gay marriage by saying, "Hell, I believe they should be just as miserable as the rest of us." Of course, it got a big laugh and made a heck of an impression on me. Dolly Parton has been married to the same man since May 30, 1966, nearly forty-five years. Given that she's mastered the art of being flirtatious and emphasizing all the good physical traits with which the good Lord has endowed her, that surprises most people.
What also surprises people is that gay couples can enjoy equally long monogamous relationships, although it rarely gets press. Instead, we see story after story of how gay love is not real, and even if it approximates what heterosexual couples enjoy, it will crumble when the going gets tough and there are no legal consequences for walking away. That line of reasoning, propagated by right wing evangelical thinkers, is exactly what seeps into our gay community's collective subconscious and feeds the serial monogamy rampant in gay and lesbian circles.
Despite whether it happens for gay and lesbian couples or for heterosexual couples, it's remarkable when people who are committed to one another stick out the rough patches that are inevitable for any couple. I believe this phenomenon occurs when the commitment to one another comes from a shared belief in the sanctity of the relationship. Gay and lesbian couples want something that is really simple in theory, but profoundly intricate in practice: equal marriage rights.
As Dolly said, we simply want the right to be as miserable as everyone else. What makes that statement so outrageous is its truth. There are many dark, difficult periods in long term relationships. They are born out of misunderstandings and fear of sharing our deepest thoughts and beliefs for fear that they will be met with rejection. They manifest themselves in infidelity, dishonesty, and fear. The true test of any relationship is how each person in the relationship deals with those hurdles. Anyone who has come through those dark periods intact, knows the joy born from the choice to stay together is capable of lighting up even the darkest nights.
So, as Donna and I count down the days to our 11th anniversary, I'm blessed to sit next to my best friend, the woman with whom I've grown so much and share countless blessings. And the one thing I will continue to pray for is the day when I can legally marry her. What I don't know is whether when that day comes Skye will be our flower girl and Hunter will be the ring bearer or they will stand with us as legal witnesses. What I do know is that together, we will continue to joyfully wait for the day when, as was said at our civil union, "the State of New Jersey catches up with what God intended."
What also surprises people is that gay couples can enjoy equally long monogamous relationships, although it rarely gets press. Instead, we see story after story of how gay love is not real, and even if it approximates what heterosexual couples enjoy, it will crumble when the going gets tough and there are no legal consequences for walking away. That line of reasoning, propagated by right wing evangelical thinkers, is exactly what seeps into our gay community's collective subconscious and feeds the serial monogamy rampant in gay and lesbian circles.
Despite whether it happens for gay and lesbian couples or for heterosexual couples, it's remarkable when people who are committed to one another stick out the rough patches that are inevitable for any couple. I believe this phenomenon occurs when the commitment to one another comes from a shared belief in the sanctity of the relationship. Gay and lesbian couples want something that is really simple in theory, but profoundly intricate in practice: equal marriage rights.
As Dolly said, we simply want the right to be as miserable as everyone else. What makes that statement so outrageous is its truth. There are many dark, difficult periods in long term relationships. They are born out of misunderstandings and fear of sharing our deepest thoughts and beliefs for fear that they will be met with rejection. They manifest themselves in infidelity, dishonesty, and fear. The true test of any relationship is how each person in the relationship deals with those hurdles. Anyone who has come through those dark periods intact, knows the joy born from the choice to stay together is capable of lighting up even the darkest nights.
So, as Donna and I count down the days to our 11th anniversary, I'm blessed to sit next to my best friend, the woman with whom I've grown so much and share countless blessings. And the one thing I will continue to pray for is the day when I can legally marry her. What I don't know is whether when that day comes Skye will be our flower girl and Hunter will be the ring bearer or they will stand with us as legal witnesses. What I do know is that together, we will continue to joyfully wait for the day when, as was said at our civil union, "the State of New Jersey catches up with what God intended."
Monday, April 4, 2011
Milestones
Over the course of the last month, Donna and I have had the pleasure of celebrating two milestone 50th birthdays with dear friends, and we've done that as I get closer to my own milestone of 40 years next month. It's understandably caused a lot of reflection about milestones and the journeys we take to get to them.
When we turn one year old, it's less a celebration of our own lives, and more a celebration that our new parents have been successful enough to get us to that point. So perhaps that first birthday celebration is more for the parents than for the child. I remember when Hunter turned one, we invited the whole neighborhood to celebrate with us as family members from out of town joined us on his first birthday. We were thrilled that he was one and I'm sure he doesn't remember it at all!
Then, we turn five years old and suddenly, we're in school. We're learning how to read, write and most importantly, how to get along with others. It begins the rigor of a school schedule and fitting it into work schedules and after-school activities.
Suddenly, we're ten years old. We've arrived in the double-digit age bracket. We're on the cusp of being a teenager, but we're still fiercely attached to some things from our younger years. So, we show the world our cool, independent selves and retreat to the safety of our rooms to connect with dolls and action figures we would be mortified to admit to our friends or family that we still cherished.
Let's jump to sixteen years old. For girls, it's a "coming of age" birthday. We call it "sweet sixteen." I remember having a few close friends over and they presented me with a car key. I was naive enough to think for a moment that it may have gone to a real car (despite the fact I hadn't yet gotten my driver's license) and then I opened the Matchbox Ferrari. My friends had a good laugh and I have an unforgettable fond memory.
Eighteen years old brings the title of adulthood and in this country, the right to vote. For young men, it brings the obligation to register with the armed forces. Whether or not they join is now a choice, but in our history, it came with the expectation that if we were to go to war, they would serve, barring any medical conditions that prevented them from service. Again, for most of us, that year is a bridge to obligations and responsibilities our future presses upon us and the previous carefree existence that allowed for big dreams and plans of fame and fortune. When I turned eighteen, I was looking forward to my first year of college and leaving the home I had known until that point in my life. I was trying to decide whether I'd become the next Oprah Winfrey, a best-selling author, or a pastor. The following year I had come out to my parents and nothing would be the same.
Let's fast forward to our twenties. By then, many of us start families of our own, and suddenly, the strange behaviors our parents displayed become far less mysterious. Parenthood presents its own heady dreams and obligations. We want the best for our children and pray we're given the strength and resourcefulness to deliver the best. I was a late bloomer to parenthood and didn't become a mom until I was thirty. My early twenties were more like a second adolescence. I had come out at 19 years old, so in my twenties, I more than made up for the dating I didn't do in high school.
In our thirties, we're busy making a name for ourselves professionally. Balancing the demands of career and family often cause us to lose ourselves and we walk through our days cloaked in anxiety and uncertainty. Are the choices we're making selfish? Are they so fraught with sacrifice that we're martyring ourselves? Will our children take good care of us in our old age or will they be so resentful and burdened with therapy bills from the mistakes we made as parents that we are left eating cat food to get by in our golden years?
In our forties, we have learned enough from our twenties and thirties to realize that we can start to relax and enjoy life or we'll worry ourselves into an early grave. At least, that's what I am feeling now as I get ready to step into 40. I'm actually looking forward to it. For me, during my forties I will see my children finish school and start looking for colleges. Ironically enough, I will finally pay of my own college loan just in time to pay for theirs. I can begin saving for my retirement in earnest and dream with Donna about what we'll do when we have more time for ourselves.
I won't jump into reflections of what the ensuing decades will bring, largely because I have no experience to offer yet. Also, I want to make sure that I'm enjoying the moment, because moments pass so quickly now that I'll miss them if I don't stay with them by worrying about what's to come or what's already happened. So, I'll cherish the memories that my friend's have gifted me with as we've celebrated their 50th years and I'll look forward to enjoying every minute of my fortieth decade. One thing I do know is that to do anything less than that will have undermined everything I've learned up to this point.
When we turn one year old, it's less a celebration of our own lives, and more a celebration that our new parents have been successful enough to get us to that point. So perhaps that first birthday celebration is more for the parents than for the child. I remember when Hunter turned one, we invited the whole neighborhood to celebrate with us as family members from out of town joined us on his first birthday. We were thrilled that he was one and I'm sure he doesn't remember it at all!
Then, we turn five years old and suddenly, we're in school. We're learning how to read, write and most importantly, how to get along with others. It begins the rigor of a school schedule and fitting it into work schedules and after-school activities.
Suddenly, we're ten years old. We've arrived in the double-digit age bracket. We're on the cusp of being a teenager, but we're still fiercely attached to some things from our younger years. So, we show the world our cool, independent selves and retreat to the safety of our rooms to connect with dolls and action figures we would be mortified to admit to our friends or family that we still cherished.
Let's jump to sixteen years old. For girls, it's a "coming of age" birthday. We call it "sweet sixteen." I remember having a few close friends over and they presented me with a car key. I was naive enough to think for a moment that it may have gone to a real car (despite the fact I hadn't yet gotten my driver's license) and then I opened the Matchbox Ferrari. My friends had a good laugh and I have an unforgettable fond memory.
Eighteen years old brings the title of adulthood and in this country, the right to vote. For young men, it brings the obligation to register with the armed forces. Whether or not they join is now a choice, but in our history, it came with the expectation that if we were to go to war, they would serve, barring any medical conditions that prevented them from service. Again, for most of us, that year is a bridge to obligations and responsibilities our future presses upon us and the previous carefree existence that allowed for big dreams and plans of fame and fortune. When I turned eighteen, I was looking forward to my first year of college and leaving the home I had known until that point in my life. I was trying to decide whether I'd become the next Oprah Winfrey, a best-selling author, or a pastor. The following year I had come out to my parents and nothing would be the same.
Let's fast forward to our twenties. By then, many of us start families of our own, and suddenly, the strange behaviors our parents displayed become far less mysterious. Parenthood presents its own heady dreams and obligations. We want the best for our children and pray we're given the strength and resourcefulness to deliver the best. I was a late bloomer to parenthood and didn't become a mom until I was thirty. My early twenties were more like a second adolescence. I had come out at 19 years old, so in my twenties, I more than made up for the dating I didn't do in high school.
In our thirties, we're busy making a name for ourselves professionally. Balancing the demands of career and family often cause us to lose ourselves and we walk through our days cloaked in anxiety and uncertainty. Are the choices we're making selfish? Are they so fraught with sacrifice that we're martyring ourselves? Will our children take good care of us in our old age or will they be so resentful and burdened with therapy bills from the mistakes we made as parents that we are left eating cat food to get by in our golden years?
In our forties, we have learned enough from our twenties and thirties to realize that we can start to relax and enjoy life or we'll worry ourselves into an early grave. At least, that's what I am feeling now as I get ready to step into 40. I'm actually looking forward to it. For me, during my forties I will see my children finish school and start looking for colleges. Ironically enough, I will finally pay of my own college loan just in time to pay for theirs. I can begin saving for my retirement in earnest and dream with Donna about what we'll do when we have more time for ourselves.
I won't jump into reflections of what the ensuing decades will bring, largely because I have no experience to offer yet. Also, I want to make sure that I'm enjoying the moment, because moments pass so quickly now that I'll miss them if I don't stay with them by worrying about what's to come or what's already happened. So, I'll cherish the memories that my friend's have gifted me with as we've celebrated their 50th years and I'll look forward to enjoying every minute of my fortieth decade. One thing I do know is that to do anything less than that will have undermined everything I've learned up to this point.
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